


Throughout the Tournament

by twilighteve



Series: Paranatural Hogwarts AU [7]
Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts AU, pnat hogwarts au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilighteve/pseuds/twilighteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to an innocent dare, the Activity Club and Johnny and the gang put their names into the Goblet of Fire during the Triwizard Tournament that took place in their fifth year. And it was all fun and games too, when they did that. They were sure they wouldn’t be picked anyway.</p><p>Who was to know that the Hogwarts Champion was apparently the resident deadpan snarker, Maxwell Puckett?</p><p>Hogwarts AU. Tells the happenings through the Triwizard Tournament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Goblet Chooses

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the only fic in the pnat hogwarts AU series that will be multi-chaptered.

Four fifth-year students sat at the Great Hall, watching people come and go, putting their names into the blue flames of the Goblet of Fire in hope that they would become the champion of their respective schools.

“That’s the Beauxbatons group, right?” Isaac asked the others.

“You mean _another_ Beauxbatons group,” Max corrected. “These people always come in groups.”

“Oh, look, that’s another Durmstrang kid,” Isabel commented. “Looks pretty young, actually. Third year, I think.”

“Hey, look, Cody and Jeff are signing up!” Ed exclaimed. The group turned to the goblet to see the two kids put in their names into the goblet and caught their stares. The two boys smiled and waved.

“Good luck, you guys!” Isaac called to them.

“Thanks!”

“Why do I feel like Jeff only signs up because it’ll make him closer to the anime protagonists he likes and Cody only signs up so that Jeff wouldn’t have to sign up alone?” Max muttered.

Ed shrugged. “Well I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case.”

“Why don’t _you_ sign up?” Isabel nudged Isaac. “Be the hero of the school you’ve always wanted to become, Mr. Prefect!”

“Uh, no, thanks,” Isaac shook his head. “Fame and glory is great and all but I’ve heard that some kids had died in the tournament years ago. I still love my life. Why won’t you sign up instead? You like fighting.”

“I would, but I think it’ll be more fun to watch people flail around in the arena.”

Ed snickered. “Yeah, that’ll be real fun.”

“Honestly, though, what are the chances that you’re gonna be picked if you put your name into the goblet?” Max pointed out. “Practically everyone is putting their names in, and – “ his words were cut short when someone plopped down to the seat next to him. “Um, hey, Johnny.”

“’Sup,” was all the redheaded boy said. Ollie, Stephen, and RJ soon took seats near him. “Planning to sign up?”

“No,” Isabel shook her head. “You?”

“Nah,” surprisingly, Johnny looked disinterested. “I don’t think I’ll get to punch people in the face. That’s not fun enough.”

Max adjusted his cap with a huff of laugh. “That really sounds like you.”

“Of course it sounds like me, it’s me.”

“I wonder what kind of challenges they’ll set up, though,” Isaac said to no one in particular. “I think it’s going to be interesting.”

“I doubt it’s going to be too dangerous,” Ollie remarked. “They’ve gotten much more careful after the death of a student.”

“It’s gotta be interesting, though. I bet there’s going to be some kind of dangerous magical creature in one of the challenges,” Stephen grinned, eyes glinting in excitement with the idea he just gave. “Maybe more.”

 “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Johnny suddenly piped up, eyes twinkling in a way that made Max’s stomach twist immediately. “I got a dare for you all.”

“What dare?” Isabel leaned forward in interest, unable to keep herself from responding to Johnny’s words despite knowing the dare was probably something really stupid or reckless. Or both.

Johnny pointed at the goblet. “Let’s all put our names in.”

“What,” Max blinked in surprise, staring at the redhead. Didn’t he just say he didn’t want to take any part of it?

“Just the names,” Johnny said with a grin. “Come on. It’ll be fun!”

“We might be safe, actually,” Isaac muttered thoughtfully. “Practically everyone from the third year and up is signing up. What are the chances that we’re going to be picked?”

“That’s true, but the chance that we’ll be picked still exist,” Max reminded them.

“Against Cody? Come on, Max, be real.”

Max blinked as he thought and sighed when he realized what Isaac meant. Compared to Cody, who was clearly champion material – knew a copious amount of spells, nice, good at numerous sports, not to mention too good and pure to be real – no one would pick them over a promising champion candidate like him. He was pretty sure that his usual group wouldn’t be picked – a girl who would gladly fist fight at any given opportunity, a boy who would happily doodle his peers and make jokes about them while he was at it, another who could lose his cool so easily he actually destroyed a sofa once, another that was way too indifferent to things and could snark his way out of basically anything – and he knew he didn’t even need to explain about Johnny and his gang. “Alright, I’ll admit, we probably won’t be picked.”

“See? There would be no harm in putting in our name, then,” Johnny pointed out.

“You just want to put your name in,” Isabel frowned, staring at the boy.

Johnny grinned his wolfish grin. “Heck yeah, it’ll look awesome. Still don’t want to participate in the tournament though.”

Isabel thought it over and shrugged. “Eh, it’s not like I’ve got anything to lose anyway. Okay, I’ll put my name in.” And just like that, everyone in the group agreed to put their names into the goblet.

“Wait, this is serious? We’re all going to sign up in this game of life and death?” Isaac asked nervously.

“Come on, Ginger, imagine how people would stare at you in awe,” Stephen baited.

It didn’t take more than three seconds for Isaac to keel. “Fine, I’ll put my name in.”

Max stared. “Honestly though, you guys realize that there isn’t any turning back if we somehow got picked, right?”

“No way we’re gonna be picked,” Isabel laughed, pulling a sheet of parchment that she quickly tore and divided between the eight of them. “Here, just write your name down.”

Max stared at the parchment for a while before taking it with a shrug. “Might as well.”

It didn’t take long for them to scribble down their names, and soon they were walking to the goblet, joking around as they took their steps. Several kids around them, who sat around the goblet because they wanted to know who would put their names in, stared in surprise. Max couldn’t help but gave a wry smile. He wouldn’t have thought he would actually put his name in, either.

Johnny, ever the enthusiast, put his name in. Max stared at how the blue flames seemingly rippled as it took the parchment Johnny had just released into the blaze. He turned and grinned before doing a complicated high-five with Ollie, Stephen, and RJ. Isabel rolled her eyes as she walked past them and put her name in. Soon, everyone but Max had put their names in, and they pushed him gently to the goblet.

Feeling their gazes boring into his back, Max shook his head and hoped he wouldn’t regret this decision. He stepped forward and lifted his hand, wondering how the flames felt warm but not hot, not uncomfortable, feeling instead like the warmth of campfire from a comfortable distance. He let the flames take his name in, wondering why it felt like it was pulling the parchment gingerly as though promising that his name – him – would be in good hands. He pulled his hand back slowly, watching the flames ripple up. He stepped back, eyes still on the goblet.

“Now what?” Isaac’s voice drifted to his ears. Max turned to face his friends.

“We wait until the goblet picks the champions, I guess?” Isabel shrugged.

* * *

Dinner was rowdy business as usual, but Max could feel anticipation and nervousness underneath the layer of smiles and laughs, like shifting clouds before rain.

Well, that was only to be expected, he supposed. The goblet would pick the champions today, after all.

For whatever reason, the students didn’t sit in their respective dorm tables. Whatever sign that indicated which table belonged to which dorm was nowhere to be found, and the students mingled together, sitting with whoever they were most comfortable with. That was how Max found himself sitting together with Isabel, Isaac, and Ed. How Johnny, Ollie, Stephen, and RJ end up sitting together with the former group was beyond Max, but he suspected it was because of how they put their names in together.

“Hey, I heard Violet put her name in too!” Ed announced.

“Violet?” Ollie’s brow lifted. “She would make a good champion.”

The conversation went on easily, words flowing and jokes coming in a steady pace between the eight of them. They weren’t particularly worried about who would be picked, after all. Max suspected it would be Cody or Violet. Either would be a good choice.

“Good evening, students!” Headmistress Boss Leader – Max still thought the string of titles for name was weird and had opted to call her Headmistress or Boss Leader – called out loudly, voice booming, bandaged arms spread out in a friendly gesture. “The time has come for us to see who exactly the champions of the three schools are!”

Cheers resounded through the Great Hall, excitement doubling. Boss Leader waited until the cheers died down a little.

“And now that we’re all fed, we will wait the goblet to spit out the names of our champions. Behold, children,” Boss Leader looked around and fixed her gaze to the hourglass used to indicate how long it would be for the goblet to choose the champions, “we will meet our champions very soon.”

The entirety of the Great Hall was silent, watching the sand slowly trickling down bit by bit. Anticipation colored the air, so much that Max couldn’t help but feel it fill his being.

 The last grain of sand fell to the bottom chamber of the hourglass, and immediately the solemn blue flames in the goblet turned lively, licking red and orange, jumping up and down as the students cried in surprise. A lick of flame shot up like a whip, spitting out a slightly burnt piece of parchment, still smoking. Boss Leader caught the parchment gracefully, the bandages that covered her face not hindering her vision at all.

“The champion from Durmstrang,” she began loudly, then paused as she let the excited silence build, “is Paskal Asenov!”

Loud cheers boomed from the table the Durmstrang students occupied, and a boy stood. He looked like a sixth year student. His angular face shone with pride, and he sported a toothy grin that announced to the world just how excited he was to be chosen as his school’s champion. As he walked up to Boss Leader to take the parchment from her, the cheers changed into chants of his name that only died after he went into the champions-only room.

Another lick of flames shot up, spitting another parchment. Again, Boss Leader caught it with the grace of a swan, holding the parchment gingerly. “The champion from Beauxbatons,” she began again, “is Léa Durand!”

A dark haired girl about Max’s age jumped to her feet with a loud cry that sounded like the equivalent of ‘hell yeah’ in French, and soon she was swarmed by her schoolmates, who hugged her quickly and congratulated her. She walked to Boss Leader with a bounce in her steps, chin lifted high and long hair swaying along with her walk. Behind her, the Beauxbatons students sang a song in French that made her grin wide. She walked into the champions-only room with the song as her background music that gradually faded after her frame disappeared through the door.

For the last time, the goblet’s flames licked up, up, spitting another name that Boss Leader caught in her hand. Max found himself holding his breath in anticipation, curious of who was the Hogwarts champion. Around him, his friends huddled closer together, eyes gleaming.

“And last but not least, the champion from Hogwarts,” Boss Leader’s voice boomed in the still hall, “is Maxwell Puckett!”

Max’s jaw went slack immediately. Who was – _him_?

As cheers and yells boomed around him, he turned to see the faces of his friends. He assumed his face was a mirror of theirs, showing shock and disbelief for all to see. Then Johnny’s face contorted into something that Max could only describe as his ‘oh no’ face. Isabel opened and closed her mouth, Isaac went pale, Ed was frozen. Stephen’s usual hyena grin was nowhere to be seen, Ollie gaped, and though RJ showed no visible sign of distress, they were far more tense than usual.

“But… I thought… Cody…?” was all Isabel could say when she found her voice.

“Max Puckett? Please come forward.”

Max blinked and realized what he was supposed to do. He pushed himself up and walked to Boss Leader, the same disbelief still etched in his face. His eyes roamed the Great Hall and met Cody’s, Jeff’s, and Violet’s. All three seemed disappointed that they weren’t picked but genuinely happy that Max was the champion.

Max accepted the burnt parchment that Boss Leader gave him, and suddenly the whole situation felt more real, more heavy. He pressed his lips together and managed to walk into the champions’ room without stumbling though his attention was elsewhere. Millions of thoughts flitted through his mind, too quick to latch on and mull over.

As he went through the doorframe and caught the sight of the other champions talking to one another, a thought crystallized in his mind and solidified quickly, banishing the other flitting thoughts with its promise of doom.

_I’m screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Triwizard Tournament. I've been wanting to tackle this one for a while. Glad I can finally do it.
> 
> And this will probably be the last fic of the series. I've starting to lose interest in it, but I don't want to leave the series unfinished. So I'm hoping that this fic could end with a bang that satisfies all (or many, if that's too greedy).
> 
> So, what do you think about this one? I'm curious about it.  
> Hope you have a nice day!


	2. 1st Interlude: The Headmasters

Green flames danced in the humongous fireplace. A figure formed from within its depths – head, body, limbs – and slowly it made its way out of there. A man stepped out of the flames, and the green fire receded, subdued. He stepped aside and looked around the room, meeting a bandaged figure and a large man with a cowboy hat, and went to greet her.

He was stopped when he noticed the flames raged again. Another figure formed and stepped out, a woman this time. Both man and woman caught each other’s eyes and shook hands before doing the same to the bandaged person.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” Headmistress Boss Leader, the enigmatic headmistress of Hogwarts, greeted the other two. “It’s a pleasure to be able to host the Triwizard Tournament, my dear friends. Let me introduce myself properly. Boss Leader, current headmaster of Hogwarts, and this man,” she patted the man in cowboy hat, “is one of my teachers, Texas Walker. He has proven himself capable to lead the school when I was, unfortunately, unable to. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Walker nodded  a greeting.

“Likewise,” the man smile. “I am Killian Tremblay, headmaster of Beauxbaton. _Enchant_ _é_ _e._ ”

The woman didn’t waste time and went straight to the point. “Darina Iliev, headmistress of Durmstrang.” She nodded to Killian, Boss Leader, and Walker, giving a smile that somehow managed to look both genuine and forced. “Charmed.”

“I think we should all have drinks,” Boss Leader clapped her hands. “What do you prefer? Tea? Butterbeer? Firewhiskey, perhaps?”

“With all due respect, I would prefer that we could finish this quickly,” Darina quickly cut in before Killian or Walker could answer, giving a strained smile that conveyed her apology and exasperation. “There was some problem in school.”

“Ah, of course,” Boss Leader nodded in understanding. “Well, let me just get to the point, then. The tournament, later, will be overseen by the Department of Magical Games and Sports of our Ministry. They will come up with the games and rounds. However, they asked us to agree on an age restriction as to prevent unwanted accidents and/or death.”

Killian’s twinkling grey eyes turned grim. “Ah, yes. We cannot let past tragedies repeat.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, thinking. “I believe the students in my school are ready, all of them. Though, to be safe, perhaps fourteen-year-old would be an appropriate enough restriction.”

Darina snorted. “I don’t believe an age restriction would be needed at all. My students are able.” She swept her gaze on the other two headmasters. “I will accept your decisions.”

Boss Leader hummed. “What do you think, Walker?”

Walker thought for a bit. “Age restriction is definitely necessary. Maybe sixteen years old would be better.”

“I see. Thank you for your input, Walker,” Boss Leader nodded. Then, suddenly, her head snapped to Killian’s direction and she declared, “Fifteen years and older, what about that?”

Walker’s eyes widened, and he sputtered. “Headmistress – are you sure you’re not – “

“Fourteen years and older,” Boss Leader cut him off mercilessly, not even giving him a chance to finish the sentence.

“Fourteen! No, fifteen is better, just a year of experience would change their performance – “

“Thirteen years and older.”

“Headmistress – “

“Twelve – “

“Yes, thirteen years and older, I agree with that completely!” this time, it was Walker who cut off Boss Leader’s sentence. “Thirteen years old, that’s good. I’m writing that to the ministry.”

Even with the bandages covering her up, one could see that Boss Leader was smirking.

Killian and Darina exchanged glances, amused. Both had a feeling that this would either be the best tournament in the history of the Triwizard Tournament, or the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you might have noticed the chapter title. It says 1st Interlude, yes. I've decided to write this a bit differently from how I'm used to things. It's an experiment, of sorts.
> 
> The 'main chapters', so to speak, will tell the major events of the tournament. Champion choosing, the tasks, Yule Ball, you know the drill. Inbetween them, I will slip in some of these interludes. It will tell the other events that aren't really... plot heavy, so to speak, like character bonding and whatnot. I'm planning to flesh out the OCs in here, but the main chapters will focus on the canon characters.
> 
> So. What do you think of this one?  
> Hope you have a great day!


	3. Wand Weighing Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Details about the wands mentioned in the chapter in the end notes.

Normally, Max would be happy to be able to leave his classes halfway through without having to deal with the prospect of detention, but this time he didn’t find it joyful.

The reason being, of course, the Triwizard Tournament.

Apparently, for a reason or another, it was already a tradition that someone should come and inspect all champions’ wands to make sure they were in perfect working conditions. Which, honestly, Max found absolutely ridiculous. It wasn’t like the wands were cell phones they bought in a Muggle store that needed replacements or something.

He knocked the door to the room for the ceremony and pushed his way inside, muttering a soft ‘excuse me’ all the while, only to be surprised by the sudden glare of camera flash. He blinked several times, muttering a curse under his breath. When he looked up, he was met with the familiar sight of the Journalism Club milling about in the room and generally harassing the champions with questions. No doubt he would get his turn soon.

His suspicions were confirmed when a blonde girl approached him with a grin, a camera dangling from her neck. “And here we have the competitor from our school, Maxwell Puckett!” Suzy announced loudly, holding a notebook and a quill afloat using magic. She linked her arm to his and dragged him to the nearest chair. “Here, here. So, tell me. You haven’t been willing to give an interview before. Why is that?”

“I don’t know, maybe I just prefer to keep my personal things _personal_ ,” Max answered without thinking, observing the room. Léa squirmed uneasily in her seat as she answered the questions Dimitri threw to her, which he did with his usual deadpan look. Paskal, on the other hand, looked like he had reversed the situation and was the one questioning Collin instead.

“Ooh, sassy one, aren’t you?” Suzy snatched the notebook and quill from the air and started scribbling. “How do you feel about being chosen?”

“Indescribable elation that would double if you leave me alone,” the sarcasm rolled off his tongue as naturally as breathing. Nah. He never even wanted to join in the first place.

“What about – “

The door swung open, revealing Professor Walker’s large figure. The man frowned hard and pointed at Suzy. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“No, no, we have a self-study period,” Suzy quickly explained. “So we thought we should interview the champions. Try to get some news for the school paper.”

“We have a paper?” Walker exclaimed, genuinely surprised. “But anyway, this place is for champions and people involved in the tournament. Now get out, you three, before I take points from your houses.”

“But – “

“ _Now_ ,” Walker repeated, more forceful this time.

Suzy, however, still managed to take her time heaving a dramatic sigh and packing her things into her bag neatly before calling for Collin and Dimitri to go out. Once the door was shut behind them, Max stared at Walker and sincerely said, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Yes, thank you very much,” Léa added. “That was very… uncomfortable.”

“Is that normal in here?” Paskal asked no one in particular. “To barge in suddenly and start interviews without notice?”

“No, that’s actually considered rude,” Walker frowned. “I’ll have to talk to them again later.”

“Is that how they normally are?” Paskal asked again, this time directing the question to Max.

“You have no idea,” Max sighed tiredly.

“Anyway, I’m here to make sure the place is ready for the ceremony,” Walker announced, looking around the room. “They’ll need the chairs to be arranged in circular shape. I have no idea why. Stand up and walk away from the chairs, kids, I’m remodeling the room.”

As the teacher levitated the chairs and tables in the room, Max and the two other champions stood on the side, watching. The door swung open and the three headmasters stepped inside, accompanied by a woman and a man, each carrying a camera and a notebook and quill. Behind them, another man trailed inside, who Max immediately recognized as the man from the Ministry. He didn’t speak much and kept to himself, though.

“Are those three kids gone?” Boss Leader asked as soon as she stepped in. “Good. I like them, but they can be annoying sometimes.”

“You already knew they were here?” Walker frowned, putting his wand in his robe.

“Of course I do, they’re basically everywhere.” Boss Leader shrugged. “And please welcome these two fine reporters from the Daily Prophet. They will want a picture and a brief interview later.”

“We need some documentation. The tournament haven’t been held for years and people are interested,” the man explained with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Also, the man who will see your wands.” Boss Leader stepped aside and let a man in. “Come in, come in. We shouldn’t delay the Wand Weighing Ceremony any further.”

The old man smiled. “Of course, Headmistress,” he agreed, a smile stretching on his wrinkled face. Max recognized him instantly as the man from whom he got his wand a few years ago.

“Champions, meet Mr. Gavin Forrest,” Boss Leader announced. “He will be seeing if your wands are in perfect working condition. Rest assured, he will handle your wands with the utmost care.”

“Greetings,” he nodded, still with the same smile, and sat on a chair by the table in the middle of the room, where Walker gestured him to sit on. The champions and their respective headmasters sat around the table. The old man took out a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and put it on. “Now then, let’s start the ceremony. May we start with the young Beauxbatons champion?”

Léa blinked. “Oh… me, Sir?”

“Yes, come forward. Miss Léa Durand, correct? Let me see your wand.”

Léa took out her wand and reluctantly handed it to Gavin, staring at his wrinkled fingers as he took the warm-colored wand. She visibly relaxed at his gentle way of handling the piece of wood, but eyes never left it.

“Yes, this is a pretty one,” he observed. “Eleven inches and quite springy, isn’t it? Made of cherry wood and… my, fairy wings and unicorn tail? A dual core will not be my choice when making a wand, but I’m sure it suits you wonderfully.”

Léa smiled. “Yes, I rather like my wand. The wandmaker I bought it from claimed it chose me.”

“Then I have to say that I agree,” Gavin’s smile was warm. “The wand chooses the wielder, do you know that?”

“I do now,” Léa replied.

Gavin fingered the wand for a moment, feeling the texture of the wood, before he swished it in the air. Silver fireworks sprung, creating an abstract painting in the air that looked similar to lilies and cherry blossoms. The silver sparks died after a while and Gavin gently handed the wand back to Léa. “I believe it will serve its purpose well. I’m sure there will be no malfunction from Miss Durand’s wand.”

“That is a great news,” the Beauxbatons headmaster, Tremblay, patted Léa’s shoulder in relief.

“Now, shall we move on to our Durmstrang champion?” Gavin asked. “Mr. Paskal Asenov, if I’m correct?”

Paskal simply nodded as he handed over his wand. Gavin took the wand gently. “Ah, another pretty one,” he exclaimed. “You have treated it very well. You polish it a lot, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Yes, I do it regularly,” Paskal admitted. “I find it works better that way.”

“Every wand appreciates a caring master,” Gavin said with a twinkle in his eyes before he directed his attention to the wand. “Hm. Cedar wood and hippogriff feather, thirteen inches long. Reasonably swishy.” The twinkle shone bright. “I see why it is happy with you, Mr. Asenov. A wand with hippogriff feather core typically demands respect from its master, and once given it will respect you back and be loyal to you. You’ve done right with it.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Gavin flicked the wand to the ceiling, and dark blue flames emerged from it, creating a fiery horse that clopped gracefully in the air before vanishing. The old man handed the wand back. “This one is also in perfectly good condition. It will serve you well.”

“That is good to know.” Iliev, the Durmstrang headmistress nodded curtly.

“Last but not least, the Hogwarts champion’s wand,” Gavin turned to Max. “Mr. Maxwell Puckett, if you will?”

Max took his wand and handed it to Gavin, believing that he would treat it well. He did buy the wand from him, after all. He was sure Gavin would be fond of his own creation.

His assumptions were correct. As soon as Gavin’s hand was on the wand, his eyes widened in recognition and a smile stretched on his face. “Ah, yes, I remember _you_ ,” he declared, more to the wand than to anyone else. “Ash wood and phoenix feather core, twelve and a half inches, rather flexible.” His eyes fell upon Max. “You’ve taken a good care of it.”

Max shrugged. “That’s the least I can do.”

Gavin’s eyes were back on the wand, nostalgia filling his gaze. “Yes, I remember the day I sold it to you, Mr. Puckett. It is quite the stubborn wand, but I believe you have won its allegiance.”

“I… guess?” Max shrugged again, feeling lost. He wasn’t familiar with wandlores and wasn’t sure if Gavin’s words were meant to be taken as a compliment or not.

Gavin simply chuckled at his confusion and waved the wand gracefully. It created black misty wisps, which floated and curled on itself, creating a spectacle of abstract forms that dissolved as quickly as it formed before it vanished into the air. He smiled fondly and handed it back to Max. “This too is in a perfect condition. It will work very well for you, Mr. Puckett.”

“Thank you, Mr. Forrest,” Boss Leader voiced the thought that Max wanted to say with much more sincerity that Max thought was possible.

“Now, is that all?” Gavin asked. “Is there any other service I could provide?”

“Yes!” the woman from Daily Prophet replied instantly. “Pictures! We would love to have some pictures of you with the champions, Mr. Forrest. For our article, you see.”

“Ah, yes, pictures,” the man from the Ministry drawled. “We should take some, for documentation.”

The pictures were taken quickly and efficiently, and the brief interview the man from the Prophet gave them was decidedly more humane than the one the Journalism Club had forced from them earlier. It took them a short time to finish everything, and before long they were already ushered back to their classes.

As they walked, Paskal turned to Max. “Could you tell me where the… Transfigurations class is?” he asked, apparently struggling with the subject names in a different language than he was used to.

“Ah, yes, and the Divination class,” Léa chimed in. “I don’t understand this school’s layout very well.”

“Sure,” Max nodded, giving them directions to each of the classrooms.

“Thank you,” Paskal smiled.

“What class do you have?” Léa asked, looking genuinely curious.

“Charms,” Max answered briefly. “And I really should go. The teacher can get really weird and I don’t really want to sit in the front.”

Léa laughed. “You should study really hard, Max. Else I would beat you so very easily in the tasks.”

Max wasn’t really interested in the tournament, but Léa casual challenge somehow managed to spark him. “Oh, really?”

“Please calm down,” Paskal stopped them before the challenge could escalate further, amusement glinting in his eyes. “If we do not go to the classrooms now there will be no studying at all.”

“That is true,” Léa agreed. “See you later?”

“Yeah, see you.”

She gave a wave and skipped down the hall to her class, steps light.

“Transfigurations is this way, yes?” Paskal asked again, pointing to another hallway.

“Yeah,” Max confirmed. “So… later?”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

They went their respective ways, and Max couldn’t help but think that even though he wasn’t interested in the tournament, he was stuck with it, so he should just try to enjoy it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I said that this is going to be my last fic, but I think I will make another detailing on wands, Max's and the rest of AC's. And maybe other characters, too. Also, Gavin Forrest is wandmaker based on Ollivander from Harry Potter. He ends up being somewhat of an expy of Ollivander, I think...
> 
> Anyway, the wands mentioned here:  
> Léa's: cherry wood, fairy wings and unicorn hair. According to Garrick Ollivander, cherry wand has 'strange power' and prized by students of Mahoutokoro, magic school of Japan. From what's written in his account, I take that some people think that cherry wand are ornamental, but apparently cherry wood makes wands that could be really lethal. As for the core, fairy wings are good for Charms and signify connection with the mystic. However, apparently it's average in other subjects and may fail in hexes and curses. In Pottermore's Chosen Few, it's stated that Ravenclaws and Gryffindors may be drawn to this core, but tend to react better when blended with unicorn hair. So, that's what I chose for Léa.
> 
> Paskal's: cedar, hippogriff feather. Apparently, Ollivander believes that wielders of cedar wands have strong character and unusual loyalty, and can become a frightening adversary when crossed, which apparently could be shocking for people who challenge them. For the core, hippogriff wands tends to demand respect from their wielders and can end up backfiring spells when not respected. It's also one of the most adaptable. And I think... that suits him pretty well.
> 
> Max's: ash, phoenix feather. Ash wands are loyal to their one true master and could lose their power and skill if passed or gifted to another. According to Ollivander, owners of ash wands aren't easily swayed from their beliefs and purposes, and they may be stubborn and courageous but never crass or arrogant... which is why I think it suits Max well. Phoenix feather is capable of great range of magic and shows most initiative, sometimes acting on its own accord, and also hard to tame and personalize. Its allegiance is usually hard won. I choose this for Max because, well... I think he could be able to do a lot of things, both good and not, with his powers as spectral in canon pnat, so phoenix feather's great range of magic should suit him well. We just don't see it yet because he's still new in spectral business and is still learning. While Max mostly just goes along with the situation, he shows surprising initiative in some moments (helping Isabel on the Ghost Train, going against Hijack in the Hitball Arc - he even gets pretty seriously injured here). And in canon, Isaac basically tried to bribe him to take his side by showing him Doorman, which makes him give the short "that's not how beings friends work" speech, so I think it's not really that easy to win his allegiance unless you show him that you don't have any hidden agendas.
> 
> So, yep. Sorry for the lengthy notes. More about wands for the other characters on that fic I mentioned above.  
> Hope you have a great day!


	4. 2nd Interlude: The Journalism Club

The sound of someone clapping their hands together rang loudly in the near-empty classroom, echoing off the stone walls in a way that was difficult to ignore. The two boys turned to the only girl in the room, bracing themselves.

“Alright, boys,” Suzy declared, putting her hands on her hips. “We’re due to another paper.”

“Sure, it’s about time,” Dimitri shrugged easily, twirling his wand in his hands. He was more preoccupied in staring at the multicolored sparks the wand gave off than Suzy’s speech.

“What do we write about?” Collin asked, more attentive than Dimitri.

“What indeed,” Suzy’s clear blue eyes narrowed. “Gentlemen, let me ask you a question. What is the current hot conversation topic in Hogwarts?”

Collin shrugged. “Triwizard Tournament, what else?”

Suzy jabbed a finger at him. “ _Exactly_. So we need to write an article about the tournament. Better yet, we need to score an interview with one of the champions. And what school are we from?”

“Hogwarts,” Dimitri replied absently, playing with the sparks from his wand.

“ _Yes_. So we need an exclusive interview with the Hogwarts champion!”

Collin frowned. “With Max? Maxwell Puckett? Didn’t you say you were going to interview him yesterday?”

“I take that you failed to score that interview,” Dimitri guessed. He sent some sparks to the ceiling, watching them until they died before sending more upwards.

Suzy glared. “I tried. He absolutely refused to answer. He even resorted to running and used that weird jumpy muggle sports on the moving staircases!” She _hmph_ ed. “Rude.”

“Well if he doesn’t want to be interviewed there isn’t really anything we can do, right?” Collin asked.

“Oh, no,” Suzy chuckled darkly. “I’m not leaving without that interview. Does any of you know any restraining spells?”

Collin gaped. “Suzy! You are _not_ going to force an interview out of him!” he scolded. “That is _way_ unethical.”

“Well I’m not gonna leave without an interview either!” Suzy retorted indignation. “We need that article, alright?”

“What is it with you and your obsession to write exclusive articles…?”

“I’m aiming for _Witch Weekly_ , Collin, I have to start early!” Suzy snapped. “Now, back to the relevant question. Restraining spells? Binding spells? Anything?”

“Not good at those,” Dimitri answered flippantly. He was still playing around with the sparks.

“Same case for me,” Collin admitted.

“Dang,” Suzy muttered before she looked around the classroom and marched to the closet storage at the back, pulling out a roll of rope. “Looks like we’ll have to do this the Muggle way.”

“Why is there a rope back there?” Collin asked suspiciously.

“It’s for emergency,” Suzy answered innocently.

“ _Emergency_ as in _I need to force an interview out of someone_?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Suzy dismissed Collin’s question easily. “Do any of you know how to tie people up?”

“I can tie him up fast,” Dimitri offered. “It wouldn’t be hard.”

“Great!” Suzy shoved the rope into his hands. The sparks from the tip of Dimitri’s wand vanished. “Now let’s get that interview.”

They waited by the stairs near the door to the Slytherin common room. It shouldn’t take that long for Max to appear there. If it turned out they had to wait long, anyway, they had prepared food Collin managed to smuggle from the kitchen.

Fortune was in their favor, as it didn’t take long for Max to appear. He sauntered casually on the corridor, cap in place, though his face looked grim and somewhat thoughtful at the same time for some reason.

Suzy clearly didn’t want to bother with those kinds of details though. Before long, she had shouted “attack” and all three members of the Journalism Club had thrown themselves on the Hogwarts champion. He screamed in shock, struggling and writhing to shake them off of him, but in the end three overpowered one, and he was bound with the rope and lying on the floor, courtesy of Dimitri. He wasn’t lying when he said he could tie him up fast.

“What the heck, man!” Max panted, face red because of the brawl earlier. His cap lay on the floor, having fallen off during the scuffle.

“We just want that interview I asked you about yesterday!” Suzy said with a gentle voice that somehow managed to sound ominous and not reassuring. “It won’t take long.”

“And you have to tie me up for that?!”

“Sorry,” Collin muttered

“Well I don’t want you running off like yesterday…” Suzy whipped out a notebook and a quill, ignoring Collin’s mutters. “Now let’s see. Can you tell me your reason why you put your name in the goblet?”

“No comment,” Max answered icily, tugging and jerking at his restraint.

“Hmmm… okay, were you surprised you were chosen?”

“Who wasn’t?!”

“I sense a bit of low self-esteem here… let’s go back to that again later. What did you think the chances of you getting picked?”

Max didn’t answer. Instead, he wriggled and shrugged, and the rope fell to the floor loosely and he sprung up, snatched his cap, and jammed it to his head in one fluid motion. Before Suzy could comprehend what had happened, Max had blasted them back with a flick of his wand, then turned and ran away as fast as he could. He probably decided to ditch his own room in the Slytherin dorm in favor of  sleeping at another dorm, preferably far away from the Journalism Club members.

Suzy propped herself up on her elbows, blowing hair away from her line of vision. Underneath her, Collin feebly flailed, so she rolled away from him to give him some breathing space.

“Why is he running away?” Suzy asked, unable to process the whole situation. “He was alreay bound.”

“Uh, Dimitri?” Collin asked the dark skinned boy, waiting for an explanation upon remembering that he was the one who tied Max.

Dimitri shrugged. Somehow, he was the only one out of three that managed to dodge the attack Max threw at them. He also didn’t show any need to chase after him. “I said I could tie him up _fast_ , not _tight_ or _right_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second interlude!! This one features the JClub cause why the frick not.
> 
> So, I hope you enjoyed them. How do you feel about this one?  
> Have a nice day!


	5. The First Task

The sound of people cheering was loud from beyond the flapping makeshift doorway of the tent, but even that couldn’t compete with the sound of Max’s beating heart.

“Are you nervous?” Léa asked from where she stood next to him, and he jumped in surprise. She smiled in a dry amusement and nodded. “So… that’s yes?”

“Who wouldn’t be nervous?” Max returned.

“Paskal seems to be quite calm,” Léa observed, pointing at the older boy with her chin, staring at how he sat motionlessly in a casual manner.

“Really?” Max asked, feeling skeptical and jealous at the same time. “How great it is to be able to keep a cool head, right?” he patted Paskal on his shoulder and was immediately greeted by a sudden, surprised shriek that made him jump back.

Paskal burned red immediately. “I did not scream,” he said in denial.

“Looks like you’re the one who’s calm, after all,” Max pointed out to Léa.

She smiled grimly and held out her hands, and Max found that they were shaking hard. “I’m just good at pretending,” Léa whispered, voice wavering. She let loose a shaky laugh, adding, “But really, who wouldn’t be scared to face one of those beasts?”

Max blinked. “Beasts?” he repeated.

“Were you not told what we will be going against?” Paskal asked with a frown.

“N-no, I figured we will be told here…”

Léa and Paskal shared a look and stared at Max with pity and envy mixed into one. Before Max could do anything about it, someone came into the tent. The three champions turned to face him, finding him to be the man from Ministry.

“Well,” he began, “it’s about time.” He pulled out a bag about the size of the Sorting Hat, and Max stared at it suspiciously. “We’ll determine the order of you going out to face the challenge and what you’ll be facing by drawing lots, so to speak.”

“Whaaat are we going to face?” Max asked, anxiety building, drawing the _a_ in _what_ in his feeble attempt to hide his fear.

Ministry Man simply smiled. “You’ll know soon enough. Let’s start drawing the lots.” He gently shoved the bag at Léa’s direction. “Ladies first?”

Léa gulped and took a deep breath, trembling fingers inching inside the bag. She soon pulled it out, and a small red reptile was cradled in her hand, the number 2 dangling by a short string on its neck.

Max stared. A small reptile. With wings. And fangs. Which breathed fire.

He was pretty sure they weren’t meant to face salamanders. Were salamanders even supposed to look like that?

“Oh, look at that,” Ministry Man smiled. “You’ll have the honor of facing the Chinese Fireball. A formidable dragon, that one. Of course, since this is just a miniature you’ll face a much bigger one!”

Max’s jaw hung open. _Nope, not happening. This must be a dream._

But it wasn’t a dream. Paskal was up next, drawing out a green miniature dragon with a 1 on its neck.

“Common Welsh Green,” Ministry Man commented. “A good one, as well.”

Paskal said nothing. He shot a look to Léa that she returned. Both looked resigned to their fates.

Ministry Man turned to Max, and he gulped. A part of him wished he would somehow manage to pull out a less menacing animal. Or a less magical one. A tiger would be scary enough. Or a monitor lizard, that looked menacing enough. Or if you insist on the ‘dragon’ part, Max was more than willing to take down a komodo dragon. Sure the thing looked monstrous and was basically just a larger version of a monitor lizard, but it still would be better than a fire-spitting, flying giant lizard.

His prayer was left unanswered. When he reached into the bag, he fished out a winged black dragon with the number 3 on its neck. Its striking yellow eyes blinked at him, and it blew fire at his face.

“Swedish Short-Snout,” Ministry Man declared. “Isn’t this one a beauty?

_No,_ Max thought, but he said nothing. He simply stared at it wordlessly and mourned his fate, cursing the day he decided to go with Johnny’s careless bet.

“That’s it then,” Ministry Man declared. “Mr. Asenov will go out and face his dragon first, followed by Miss Durand, and lastly Mr. Puckett. The first competitor will start the task in ten minutes. You will each face a dragon, just like the one you have in your hands right now, but the real deal will be bigger. Each of them will guard a nest of eggs, and among them will be a golden egg. The golden egg will act as a clue to your next challenge. Your task is to take the golden egg without damaging the other eggs.” He stared at them each in the eyes. “I wish you all the best of luck.”

As Ministry Man walked out of the tent, Max stared at the miniature dragon. A part of him still wished that it was just a cruel joke, and that he would just have to face maybe ten of these miniatures. The severity of the situation crashed at him when Paskal went out of the tent and the booming cheers of the audience blared out together with the roar of a possibly bloodthirsty creature.

Cold sweat broke all over him.

“And here we see our Durmstrang Champion inching closer to the nest of the dragon… Oh, what’s this? He’s transfiguring a rock into… oh! Another golden egg! Clever, clever…”

Max groaned inwardly. He had somehow ended up listening to the commentator’s words in an attempt to get an inspiration of how he should approach the situation. So far it hadn’t helped.

Time ticked by and Paskal finally managed to get his golden egg. _Good for him_ , Max thought, trying to divert his panic someplace else.

Léa stood to face her own dragon, and she turned to Max before she went out of the tent. “Max… good luck with your dragon, later.”

Max blinked at her. “Ah,” he managed after he realized what she was saying, “yeah. You too.”

She made half a step to him, but stopped at the last moment. “You… didn’t know you were going to be facing a dragon until only just now?”

“… Yeah? Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Léa took a deep breath and stepped out of the tent before Max could say anything else. Like Paskal, she was also greeted with cheers and roar. They sounded ominous to Max, though, like a promise of certain death.

He beat himself up mentally. No, not death. The schools wouldn’t allow something like that to happen in the tournament, right? The ministry wouldn’t either. Right?

He tried not to listen to the commentator, but the loud words pierced into the tent all the same. There was a boom as the commentator whistled in awe, “Merlin’s beard! Where did this chick learn a _reducto_ spell like that?! Wait, this doesn’t look good, the debris will fall on the eggs – ooh, incredible feat of protection spell! I can’t believe she managed to cast that in time!”

Max hung his head low. He was probably going to be eaten by a dragon. What a way to die.

The miniature dragon settled on his lap and growled, puffing a cloud of smoke from its mouth. Max glared at it. “Why you?” he couldn’t help but want to vent a little. “Why not a Thestral? Or a boggart – wait, not a boggart. I take that back.”

The dragon cocked its head and gave another puff of smoke.

“And the beautiful Beauxbatons Champion won the golden egg!” the commentator’s voice boomed out after a while, and Max straightened up rigidly. He was up next. He was up next and he didn’t know what to do.

He had no choice but go out though. He prayed that he wouldn’t be mauled, maimed, or eaten alive, took a deep breath, and went out of the tent when his name was finally called.

Again, the cheer boomed, shaking him up and down. He didn’t hear the roar of a dragon. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing or not. Hopefully it was a good thing.

Max snuck behind a large rock and looked around. Not too far away, a black dragon lay protectively next to a mountain of eggs. Right in the middle of it was the golden egg Max was supposed to grab.

Right, _grab_. Like it was so easy to saunter up to a dragon, mutter a word a greeting, take the egg, and go away? No, the greeting the dragon would give to him was most likely a burst of flames at his face.

He had no choice but to try, though. He stalked carefully, getting closer to the dragon, trying desperately to make as little sound as possible. When he was as close as he could without revealing himself, he realized that he needed a distraction of sorts. He took out his wand and waved a little, whispering a soft “ _reducto_ ”.

A rock by the dragon’s right exploded and it immediately stood on its legs, going there to investigate the sound. Max snatched the opportunity and sneaked to the piles of eggs. The commentator yelled a full description paragraph of what he was doing, and Max suddenly wondered if dragons knew English, because it wouldn’t be funny if the dragon suddenly decided to check on its eggs because it heard the commentator’s words.

Careful as not to damage the other eggs, Max inched to the golden egg at the top and touched its surface. He was suddenly engulfed by a feeling of familiarity that he felt around magnetic objects, and he stared at the egg. He was sure it was made of gold – the color and shine certainly fit, and the time he spent watching his mother forge increasingly odd objects had taught him how to differentiate quite the number of different metals. He knew for sure gold wasn’t magnetic, but this one most likely was.

“By Merlin! Watch out!”

Max snapped his head up and his eyes met the dragon’s yellow ones immediately. He froze in place, withdrawing his hand from the golden egg, feeling that he wouldn’t be able to grab it in time. His intuition was proven correct when the dragon roared a burst of flames to his face.

His instinct to flee kicked in, and he jumped and rolled on the ground to avoid the surging flames with a shout. The dragon was relentless, however, and it chased him wherever he went. In his panic, Max completely forgot about the wand in his hand, opting instead to make the rocky landscape become his personal track field, using the rocks as footholds to propel himself away from the dragon. He was thankful that he kept practicing parkour on the school’s moving staircases.

“Ooh, look at how he jumped over that rock – and _backflips over it_! I almost wish the dragon will keep chasing him!”

Max gnashed his teeth and muttered a string of curses directed at the commentator under his breath.

He was eternally grateful when he finally reached a safe distance away from the dragon. It stopped chasing him simply because of the collar circling its neck, and Max knew he had to proceed carefully. Again, he crept soundlessly to the dragon, this time refusing to get too close to the nest. If the egg was truly magnetic, he probably could draw it out to him from a relatively safe distance.

He stopped his approach and hid behind a rock when he thought he was close enough. He crouched, peeking out from the rock, and extended his hand to the egg, mentally nudging it to stick to his skin. He wasn’t sure if it would work, but considering his history with magnetic object, he was going to say that it would.

The egg twitched and jerked, falling to the ground with a thump, and Max pumped his fist silently in triumph. The dragon’s eyes were immediately at the egg, however, and Max stopped his mental nudging at once. The egg lay still on the ground.

But the dragon was definitely suspicious. It looked around the arena, eyes narrowing as it searched. Hoping that the search would occupy the dragon, Max nudged at the metal of the egg again. Slowly, it rolled towards him.

The dragon sniffed the air as Max worked with the egg. Then, suddenly, it snapped its head to Max, eyes piercing accusatorily at him. Max went rigid at the glare, feeling as though he had been dipped into the Black Lake in the middle of winter. The dragon opened its mouth, and Max could see the beginning of a fireball forming between the jaws.

He moved without thinking. He jabbed his wand at the dragon and yelled the first spell that crossed his mind.

Which, incidentally, happened to be _Lumos_.

The brightest magically induced light he had ever created blared out, and he closed his eyes as he willed the egg to come to him. He felt it touch his skin and stuck to his hand as the light died down.

The dragon roared and moaned, shaking its head and blinking its eyes, no doubt blinded by the light. It huffed flames from its nostrils and opened and closed its jaws, the fireball it had prepared dissipating with a cloud of smoke while it thumped one of its mighty legs in agitation repeatedly. Max stared at it nervously, silently hoping that it wouldn’t crush its own eggs.

And then, suddenly, a loud and piercing whistle. Max jumped at the sound, looking around, suddenly remembering that he was in the middle of a tournament. As he looked around, the sound of people cheering came, ever louder than before. A group of people ran to the dragon to subdue it, and some of them pulled Max away to a safe distance. Max allowed himself to be dragged away, hugging the golden egg close to his chest, suddenly feeling protective of it. He listened to the crowd, trying to hear words they spoke but unable to do it. Even the commentator’s words were drowned by the loud cheers.

“Maaax!”

He turned to see his friends running towards him, Isabel leading them all. “Max!” she shouted, throwing her arms wide. “You’re alive!”

“Yes,” Max answered, matching the volume of her voice, looking at her warily. “Are we hugging?”

“And not dead!” she strode forward, ignoring his question.

“Aren’t you tough? Should you not do hugs?”

She enveloped him in a hug all the same. “This is a tough hug,” she replied wittily, a grin plastered on her face.

“No, you’re not squeezing hard enough and that’s worse somehow.”

She squeezed. “How’s this?”

“ _Aah, worse!_ ”

“But you just said – “ she loosened the hug. “Look, I’m adjusting to your comfort here.”

“Can you please just act your archetype and, like, punch me in the arm?”

Isabel stepped back from him and held up her fist. “I mean, yeah.”

Max glared at the fist in horror, gripping the egg tighter and recoiling from Isabel. “I mean instead!” When Isabel stared at him in confusion, he blurted, “Retroactively instead!”

A sudden tap at his shoulder made him turn, and he came face to face with a grinning Ed and a smiling Isaac. Behind them, not too far away, were Johnny and his gang, warding off the Journalism Club, and Max found himself feeling very, _very_ grateful for that.

Suddenly, Max found himself wondering how he fared against the dragon compared to the other two champions. “How was I?” he asked to no one in particular.

“You were great!” Ed bounced excitedly. “I can’t believe you subdued a _dragon_ with a _lumos_ , of all things!”

Isaac laughed at that. “Yeah, and I’ve never seen one that bright, either. Asenov wasn’t as stellar, you know.”

“He was pretty good with transfiguration, I’ll give him that,” Isabel commented. “He turned a rock into another golden egg to fool the dragon. He wasn’t too lucky trying to swap the two though, and not stealthy enough either. The dragon nearly burned him, but he managed to dodge the flames. Still got his robe on fire, but that was an evasion, still.”

“Durand was really good too,” Ed added. “Her _reducto_ was freaking _terrifying_ , and her _protego_ wasn’t half bad either. She accidentally knocked one of the real eggs though, and it got crushed when the dragon was trying to clear its vision after getting a rock exploding on its face.”

Max winced. “That… wasn’t supposed to happen.”

His friends might have wanted to say more, but right then, the commentator spoke up. “Ladies and gentlemen, now that every champion has finished their first task, we will all see the scores they got!”

The crowd quieted down, awaiting the scores

“First up is the Durmstrang Champion, Mr. Paskal Asenov! Mr. Asenov had proven himself capable of delicate and complicated magic, having been able to transfigure a rock into a golden egg replica. He had caught fire during the task, but a simple _aguamenti_ had stopped the situation from getting worse. And for his efforts, Mr. Asenov will get…” The juries – the three headmasters and Ministry Man – summoned silvery ribbons that created numbers from their wands one by one. “… thirty two points in total! Splendid!”

The crowd cheered and clapped, happy for said champion. Paskal, himself was sitting among the Durmstrang students and was grinning from ear to ear.

“Next is the Beaubatons Champion, Miss Léa Durand!” the commentator began again after the cheers died down. “Miss Durand displayed an incredible feat of _reducto_ spell and a quickly casted _protego_. However, one of the eggs her dragon guarded fell and was crushed. This will, unfortunately, reduce her score.”

Max glanced at where the Beauxbatons students were clustered, finding Léa sitting among them. She had her face in her hand, no doubt regretting that particular mishap.

“And for her efforts, Miss Durand has been awarded…” again, the juries summoned silvery numbers. “… thirty three points for her efforts! Incredible! However, the crushed egg will have her score reduced by five, and so Miss Durand is left with… twenty eight points! Still incredible, Miss Durand, don’t worry!”

Again, cheers and applause swallowed the whole arena. Léa’s friends hugged and patted her, and she smiled a little at that.

“Last but not least, the Hogwarts Champion, Mr. Maxwell Puckett!” the commentator spoke when the cheers subsided. “Mr. Puckett had shown a great feat of physical fitness and a stunningly powerful – though simple – spellwork. He had also managed to call the golden egg to him with unknown means, since summoning spells have been nulled in the arena. However, for his efforts, Mr. Puckett has now gained…” again, the juries shot up numbers from their wands. “Thirty points in total! Great news, Mr. Puckett!”

The crowd, again, broke out in cheers and applause. Max stared at the commentator in awe, unable to speak, having expected to not be able to gain as many points.

“And so, now, we have Mr. Asenov leading the scores, followed by Mr. Puckett, and lastly Miss Durand! Now, I will remind you that your eggs will hold the clue for your next task. Which, by the way, will be held in February – where and what the task will be is a question you will have to answer on your own. In the meantime, we are all now free to go back to the school to rest and dine. I wish the champions luck on finding out the clue!”

“Huh,” Johnny, all of a sudden by Max’s side, remarked. “I guess that’s it then. Wanna go back to the castle?”

Max shrugged. “Sure, I can use the rest anyway.”

“Please hold on.”

The sudden voice made Max and his friends turn, and they were surprised to see Boss Leader floating down to the ground. They had known she was a powerful witch, but they didn’t expect her to be able to fly without a broom.

“Is there something wrong, Headmistress?” Isaac, being the most composed of them all by virtue of being a prefect and often met the headmistress, asked.

“Nothing in particular,” Boss Leader answered. “I only wanted to know how Mr. Puckett retrieved the egg.”

“Oh,” Max blinked, relaxing at once. “It was nothing, really. I just found the egg magnetic, so I pulled at it.”

“Magnetic?” Boss Leader repeated. Though her face wasn’t visible, her tone indicated that she was intrigued.

“Yeah, uh,” Max gulped, suddenly nervous again. “It’s just that I’ve been able to attract metals since little. Magnetic ones, especially. It’s weird. But I’m sure there are others like that?”

“I’m pretty sure gold isn’t magnetic though?” Johnny piped up, and it was soon backed up by murmurs of agreement from Ollie and Stephen and nods from RJ.

“I know, it’s weird, but it was magnetic,” Max replied, holding out the golden egg.

“I may have an explanation for that,” Boss Leader said. “To reduce the amount of money needed in the tournament, the committee had decided to make the egg from iron and put a thin layer of gold over it to give it a more regal appearance.”

“I thought the Ministry could just use alchemy to turn metal into gold?” Stephen asked, suspicious.

Boss Leader waved her hand in dismissal. “Finding a competent alchemist costs much more than you would have thought. This is the best solution for everyone involved.” She looked around – at least she _looked like_ she was looking around – and nodded. “Thank you for the explanation, Mr. Puckett. You can go back to the castle now.”

“Thank you.” Max hugged the egg once more and turned, leaving the arena.

“By the way, why are you hugging it so close like that?” Isabel asked, pointing at the egg. “It’s not like anyone’s going to steal it from you.”

“Oh, about that,” Max stepped forward a bit and turned to face the others. “Can someone take this from me? It’s stuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got longer than I intended it to be... oh well
> 
> I'll be honest; I wasn't sure what the tasks would be, so I'm referring to the HP plotline regarding it. Which means the second task will be about someone Max finds precious who got kidnapped and Max will have to retrieve them. I'll be honest: I have no idea who that should be. Any ideas?
> 
> Anyway, I'm hoping that you enjoyed this chapter. Have a great day!


	6. 3rd Interlude: The Activity Club and Johnny and the Gang

“I’m going to die. The first task is in three days and I literally have no idea what I’m doing. I’m going to die.”

“Hey, stop saying you’re dying!” Johnny smacked his shoulder good naturedly. “’Cause that’ll make it look like, y’know, _we_ were the ones who pushed you to it.”

“Maybe we were,” RJ responded hollowly, tearing up a bit. “ _We were._ ”

“Okay I need everybuddy to calm down,” Johnny said sternly, swiping RJ’s tears away – though it almost looked like he was slapping them. “We can go through this, alright?!”

“How?” Max asked. “There is no info about what the first task is. I’m charging in there blindly.”

“Buh – you’re what?”

“Maybe we should try to get you prepared,” Ollie thought aloud. “Help you train a spell or two.”

“Yeah, like _expelliarmus_ or something,” Isabel chimed in immediately. “You might be asked to duel each other. Or someone else. Who knows.”

“You should train in the cooler spells though,” Steven added. “Like _expecto patronum_ , for example.”

“What good’s that gonna be for me?” Max grumbled. “I doubt the Ministry will let Dementors come. And the spell’s way too high-leveled for me to learn in just three days, anyway.”

“Now, now,” Isaac started calmly. “Let’s not scratch that possibility just yet. We don’t know if that’ll come in handy later. You know what Muggles say; _Don’t burn the bridge you may have to cross later_.”

“It usually refers to relationships, Isaac,” Max deadpanned.

“Details, details.”

Isabel looked interested in it, however. “What about burning it after you cross it though?”

Isaac’s smile wavered. “Uh. I think it depends on the case itself.”

“What about burning it when you get to it?” Ed asked with a grin, earning him a glare and a firm _no_ from Isaac.

“Forget about burning it before or after crossing it, at this rate I’ll probably end up burning it _while_ crossing it,” Max sighed.

“Can we stop with the Muggle sayings?” Johnny asked, looking both confused and annoyed.

“Okay, the way I see it, we should first make some guesses about possible tasks that the Ministry can pull off,” Isabel thought out loud. “That means nothing too tricky or dangerous.”

“But it has to be flashy,” Ollie countered. “Otherwise it might not engage the audience. That raises the bar for danger pretty high.”

“Oh, maybe they’ll put the champions against dragons!” Steven piped up, eyes glittering in inspiration. “They can just get the dragon keepers around to subdue the dragons if things get too rough.”

“Oh yeah, dragons sounds pretty flashy,” Ed agreed immediately. “The fire they breathe absolutely is!”

“That might be a bit too much,” Isaac said immediately when he saw Max’s face paling. “Maybe it will be something else. Like taming a hippogriff.”

“Or battling off a hundred Cornish pixies,” Johnny chimed.

“Please no,” Max pleaded immediately, his face a picture of pure horror.

“Let’s go with the duel idea,” Isabel sighed, to which RJ immediately nodded. “Do you want to practice with me, Max?”

“Hey, wait, _I_ wanted to be his practice buddy,” Johnny protested before Max could say anything.

“ _My_ idea, Jhonny, so I get to be his practice buddy,” Isabel argued, sticking her tongue out. “You can practice with him after me.”

“Oh no, that’s not how it’s gonna be,” Johnny shook his head, a competitive grin curling on his lips. “What about _we_ duel to see who’s better, and then the winner can be the first practice buddy?”

“Guys, can you maybe stop arguing about who’s going to be my practice buddy and let me, you know, choose?” Max called from the sidelines, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Oh, you’re on,” Isabel mirrored Johnny’s grin, completely ignoring Max’s protests. “I’m going to give you a _shock_ , and you can count on that.”

Johnny barked a laugh. “Well I’m gonna _burn_ you, see if you can take the heat.”

Max threw up his arms and turned, plopping down on a chair between Ed and Ollie. “ _Every time_ ,” he grumbled. “Why can’t we just solve things with civil conversations instead?”

Ollie lifted a brow at him. “I think you should know well enough by now that Johnny and Isabel don’t know the meaning of _civil_.”

“Well I dunno about you, but I think this will be interesting,” Ed grinned to Max, motioning to Johnny and Isabel as they whipped out their wands and pointed it at each other. “They’re both pretty good duelists, after all.”

Max sighed. “Fine,” he leaned forward, propping his chin on his hands. “Might as well learn what we’re supposed to do in duels.”

Two voices shouted two spells, and lights shot from the two duelists’ wands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone remember the Cornish pixies? It's the things Lockhart brought to DADA class in Harry's 2nd year in canon HP. Creepy critters, those, especially in groups. I don't really remember about the book, but in the movie they lifted Neville by his ears and hung him on a chandelier (poor kid) and Lockhart actually ditched the class to save his butt, and the gang only managed to stop the pixies from rampaging further after Hermione used the immobulus spell on them. Imagine having to battle a hundred of them. Imagine the chaos.
> 
> Anyway, that's the interlude. Next up will be the Yule Ball! And I'm still listening to your input if any of you want to share your idea about who should be taken in Max's 2nd task.


	7. The Yule Ball

Max flitted through the throng of people in suits, dresses, and dress robes, searching the crowd in panic.

_Nope, nope, not happening. I gotta find someone cause_ this is not happening _, I’m not about to dance in front of the crowd with a_ teacher _because I happen to not have a date._ Nope.

And finally, he did. He almost cried out in relief when he saw them. He darted to them, ignoring the fact that that shoved several people and probably stepped on more than a few dresses in the process.

The three Hogwarts students stared at him in confusion when they saw him panting. “What’s wrong?” Isabel asked.

“I need someone to accompany me on the dance,” Max breathed urgently.

Ed stared. “Sorry, what?”

Max groaned miserably. “The Champions have to open the dance, alright? We have to dance. So we need a date. _I_ need a date. I’m not going to go there dancing with Professor Day, okay?”

Isabel huffed a laugh. “Then why didn’t you ask someone _months_ ago?”

“I didn’t know I have to open the dance, alright?” Max turned to Isaac. “You don’t have a date, so can you _please_ accompany me?”

Isaac’s face contorted into alarm. “Dude, no. Dancing is okay but the first dance is just… no.”

“Well I don’t want to either, we’re in the same boat here!”

“I don’t want to! You can’t change my mind, Max, so give it up.”

Max turned to Ed and Isabel in desperation. “Ed? Izzy?”

“But we wanted to go together,” Ed protested.

“I’m not stealing your date or anything,” Max tried to bargain, “I’m just… borrowing her for the first dance. Or him,” he turned to Isabel. “Whichever of you is fine! I just don’t want to go there alone! And then it’s all over, I promise. I don’t even want to step into the dance floor to begin with.”

Ed turned to Isabel. “Well… I don’t really want to dance the first dance,” he admitted. “Iz?”

Isabel frowned. “Mmm…” she looked down, checking herself, thinking. “Is this even good enough for the first dance?” she asked, referring to her dress. It was flowy, knee-length at the front and ankle-length on the back, glaring red in color, and much more modest compared to the sparkling dresses other girls wore.

“Isabel,” Max began, staring at her right in the eyes, “you could be dressed in rags and I’ll just tear up my clothes to match you. You look great, honest.”

Isabel took another moment of thought before nodding. “Fine, I’ll dance with you,” she said, and then she pointed at Max’s nose. “But you owe me and Ed one.”

“Yeah, of course,” Max hurriedly nodded, afraid that Isabel would change her mind. He practically dragged her away, only stopping short from breaking into a sprint because he remembered that she wore heels and wasn’t sure if those things were great to run in.

They soon reached the meeting point for the Champions and their dates, by the humongous doors leading to the Great Hall that Max was sure had been redecorated to accommodate the ball. When he saw Professor Day, he yelled, “I got her! It’s all fine now.”

“Ah, great!” the chubby professor smiled, and it was almost like pink light glowed around her. She turned to face Max and Isabel, somehow managing to see without her sight. “And you are…?”

“Isabel Guerra, Professor,” Isabel answered, voice loud and clear. “I got… held up.”

“Well you’re here now, so that’s good,” Professor Day seemed to be glowing brighter. “Well, you should prepare! We’re going to open the ball in ten minutes!”

Max sighed in relief, knowing that he managed to save himself a trillion years of embarrassment. Well, he also knew that Isabel would probably make him pay his debt in the most ridiculous way possible, but he decided not to be concerned about it for the time being.

“Where did you kidnap her, Max?” Paskal asked casually as he eyed Isabel before moving forward to shake her hand. “Good evening.”

“Evening,” Isabel returned. “And no, Max didn’t kidnap me. We made a deal.”

Paskal snorted. “I had suspected that he nabbed you from your date.”

“Wait, he didn’t?” Léa asked, surprised, stopping her conversation with her date – a fellow Beauxbatons student – to confirm this with Max.

“I didn’t, I asked her,” Max rolled his eyes. “I mean, yeah, I asked her at the very last minute, but I asked her.”

Léa turned to Isabel in suspicion. “How much did he pay you?”

Max sputtered in indignation, but Isabel merely laugh. “No money has been, or will be, exchanged in this business. I was thinking I’ll make him do chores or something.”

Léa’s eyes narrowed. “Guerra, correct? Isabel Guerra?” upon her nod, Léa grinned wide. “I like your style, Guerra. May I suggest a chore or two to work our friend Maxwell here?”

“Why, certainly!” Isabel laughed, quickly siding with Léa and her smirking date.

Max stared. “That’s it. I’m done for!” he declared. “If those two are on the same side then I guess I might as well crawl into a hole for the rest of my life.”

Paskal chuckled. “I think you are exaggerating.”

Max snorted. “Absolutely not.” He looked around. “Where’s your date, by the way?”

“Oh, he just went to the toilet for a bit,” Paskal answered casually. “I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wait. _He_?”

“Yes, _he_. I believe you share a class with him, actually.”

Max frowned, mentally listing his classmates to figure out who Paskal’s date was. It wouldn’t be Johnny and his group, since they went together as a squad – Max wasn’t even sure how that worked. Not Collin, that’s for sure, the poor guy had declared that he’d go with Suzy to make sure she wouldn’t overstep any boundary. Dimitri seemed more the type to overlook this kind of event and sleep the night, or if he came he’d be alone watching people and not actually partake in the festivities.

Before his mental list could go longer, someone bounced over and patted Paskal’s shoulder, entering Max’s line of sight, and he immediately recognized the black hair and blue eyes. “Cody? You’re Paskal’s date?”

“Ah, um,” Cody immediately withdrew his hand from Paskal’s shoulder, blushing at the question. “Yes?” He shyly glanced at Paskal’s face with a surprisingly bright smile, and the Durmstrang Champion returned the smile with a blush of his own. Cody’s eyes darted back to Max’s. “You don’t think it’s weird, do you?”

“Uh? No,” Max shook his head. “I was just surprised. You two look great together.”

Both Cody and Paskal grinned, and their smiles could rival a thousand suns. Max couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh, it’s started!” Léa remarked when a faint sound of music wafted from the doors. Hearing her words, everyone started lining up – Paskal and Cody at the front, Léa and her date in the middle, and Max and Isabel at the back.

“Psst, Max,” Isabel hissed, “can you even dance?”

Max grimaced and hissed back, “No, I ran away from the dance lessons.”

Isabel scowled. “Figures. Just follow my lead, alright?”

They walked inside the hall, and then, without prior notice, Isabel placed Max’s hand on her waist and grasped the other before she put her free hand on Max’s shoulder. Max nearly yelped in surprise when she began pulling and pushing him to follow the music, but she rolled her eyes. “I said follow my lead,” she whispered, sounding both annoyed and amused. “I thought with your parkour thing you’d be good at this.”

“First time, Isabel, you can’t blame me on this,” Max scowled. After a while, his movements smoothed off, knowing when he should move forward, backwards, or twirl Isabel. The ease of the dance was nothing compared to the relief flooding his veins when someone tapped his shoulder though.

“Mind if I cut in?” Ed asked, grinning at Max hopefully.

“Course not, I’ve been wanting to get off the dance floor for a while,” Max answered. “Isabel’s been stepping on my feet.”

“That’s payback for stepping _mine_ ,” Isabel swiftly retorted as she took Ed’s hand. “And a payback from taking me from Ed!”

“Hey, you told me yourself you were going as bros instead of dates, yourself!”

Isabel grinned and stuck her tongue out as Ed laughed and called, “Bye, Max!” Both danced and were soon lost in the throng of dancing people, and Max quickly went out of the way.

He flitted around the long food table, taking some dishes and putting them on a plate as well as two bottles of butterbeer before making his way to a corner where he had seen Isaac’s striking hair. He saw his friend there, sitting sulkily, and he sat next to him.

“Butterbeer?” he offered.

“Thanks,” Isaac took the bottle. They clinked the two bottles together before taking a drink, and it was at that moment that Isaac spotted Max’s plate. “Is that food?”

Max rolled his eyes. “What else?” he took a bite of a piece of meat. “It’s good, you know?”

Isaac stared at the plate for a moment before setting his butterbeer on his seat. “Save the seat for me, okay? I’m getting some food.”

“’kay, will do.”

Max sat alone there for a while, munching on his food and watching people dancing. Isabel and Ed looked particularly happy with the now jovial tune. He could see Johnny, Ollie, RJ, and Stephen dancing together in a corner, arms linked. Lisa and Violet were chatting together as they danced. Somewhere, Paskal and Cody practically ran away from Suzy, who were rapidly shooting questions their way while Collin physically restrained her, Dimitri watching calmly from the sidelines.

Just as Max finished the last bit of his food, someone sat next to him. He turned and met Léa’s eyes. “You’re not dancing?” he asked her.

“I’m taking a break,” Léa answered. “Besides, I’m hungry. Valentin is grabbing us some meal at this moment.”

“Valentin?” Max repeated, pronouncing the name as _vah-len-tongue_.

“My date,” Léa answered. “The one with the Mohawk. I haven’t introduced you, have I?”

Max simply shook his head. Silence dawned on them, almost becoming awkward when someone came and sat next to Léa. Both Max and Léa turned to see Paskal.

Paskal saw the question in their eyes and answered before they asked it. “Ah, I’m waiting for Cody,” he explained. “He’s bringing that friend of his – Jeff – back to his dorm.”

“Jeff?” Léa blinked. “Did something happen to him?”

“I think he got drunk,” Paskal answered seriously.

“On butterbeer?” Max asked incredulously. “It’s not even alcoholic!”

At that very moment, Professor Walker walked to their line of sight, sipping the punch he had in his hand and extravagantly spitting it out to the air. “ _Who spiked this with firewhiskey?!_ ”

Max stared and gripped his butterbeer closer. “I think I’ll stick with butterbeer for the whole night.”

“What, you don’t want to try that?” Léa asked in surprise.

“It’s not that I don’t want to try. It’s that I don’t want to end up drunk and give Suzy a field day.”

The two other Champions winced. “I see your point,” Paskal muttered.

For the second time, silence draped. This time, Léa was the one to break it.

“Hey, Max,” she began, “about the first task…”

“What about it?” Max turned, noting how Paskal tensed up at the words Léa spoke.

“It’s just…” Léa licked her lips and clenched a fistful of her white and blue dress, suddenly looking unsure of her decision but plowed on anyway. “You didn’t know we were facing dragons until the last minute, right?”

“I had no idea,” Max shrugged. “I mean, my friend contemplated it, but I didn’t know…” He eyed Léa and Paskal. “Why do you ask?”

Léa and Paskal shared an uneasy glance.

“Wait,” Max breathed in sharply when realization dawned. “Are you saying that you knew before we were told at that tent?”

Paskal sighed. “Yes,” he admitted. “We didn’t know the other were told, at first. Léa and I talked before you came, and we assumed you knew, too. We were surprised when you didn’t.”

“Headmaster Tremblay told me sometime before the tournament began,” Léa said, soft, but loud enough to be heard. “He wants Beauxbatons to win very badly. He didn’t even hesitate before telling me. He just waited until the day of the tournament so that I can still look shocked when we’re finally told at the tent.” She looked at Paskal, as if passing the baton to him.

“Headmistress Iliev didn’t tell me,” Paskal began, “but her right hand man did. The headmistress is confident in my abilities and in the way Durmstrang teach the students. Vice Headmaster isn’t too sure, though, and he decided to tell me a few days before the first task.”

“Boss Leader didn’t even get close to me,” Max muttered, almost to himself. “I mean, yeah, she giggled and stuff when she looked at me – at least I was pretty sure she did – but that’s pretty much her normal behavior so I couldn’t be sure.”

Léa stared at him before she huffed a laugh. “Isn’t it nice?”

“Isn’t what nice?” Max lifted a brow at her. “Not being told things?”

“No,” Léa shook her head. “Being trusted with things.” She straightened up before Max could fully comprehend her words and spoke, “Valentin is back. I should go see him. I’ll see you around.” With that, she got up and left the remaining Champions, the flowy dress she wore trailing in her wake.

Max stared at her retreating back, shaking his head a little in the confusion he still felt. “Being trusted? What?”

“It is true your headmistress told you nothing,” Paskal, surprisingly, readily supplied him with information. “But she also did not tell you all details of the task just like that. That means she was confident that you would be able to solve the problem without any prior notice.”

“Well some info wouldn’t hurt either,” Max protested.

Paskal smiled. There was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “I would choose to face the task without any information.”

“What? Why?”

“Your headmistress told you nothing because she believes in your abilities,” Paskal explained. “Both Léa’s headmaster and my vice headmaster don’t trust us to win. It belittles our capability.”

Max stared silently, too stunned to speak. He didn’t see it that way, but he could understand why Léa and Paskal would be upset. He would, too, if someone didn’t respect his magical abilities, considering how much time he used to perfect it.

“I tried to think things through from the vice headmaster’s perspective, so I’m not that upset, not really,” Paskal added. “But Léa’s not like that. She’s mostly just mad. But the problem is, I think the school board and other students want us to win more than we actually do.”

Max’s brows wrinkled. “But this is just a game, isn’t it? One meant to, what do you call it, make the relationship of the schools better?”

Paskal snorted. “Yes, technically. In reality, many sees this to see which school is the best.” He looked up to the crowd and suddenly stood up. “I think Cody is back. He might want to dance again. If you’ll excuse me, Max.”

“Ah, yeah,” Max trailed off, watching Paskal, a bit surprised by the abrupt leave. He stayed at his seat, mulling over the information he just got, drumming his fingers of the now near-empty bottle of butterbeer.

Isaac came back a few moments later. “Are those two gone?” he asked, holding a plate of food for himself and two new bottles of butterbeer. “You three seemed to have a pretty intense conversation, so I decided to wait for a bit.”

“We’re done conversing,” Max easily replied and finished his butterbeer before snatching one of Isaac’s. “It was just some tournament stuff.”

“Okay then,” Isaac stared at his stolen butterbeer in disdain, but made no move to reclaim it. The two sat in silence, listening to the music in the air and watching people dancing and eating. A few times, one of them would comment about how the ball went, and the other would respond, but the conversation never went longer than a few exchanged words.

The relative silence and peace was interrupted, however, when heeled feet stepped in front of them with the force of a rhino. The two looked up to meet the owner’s eyes, not wholly surprised when they saw Isabel staring at them, Ed right behind her with an equally strong gaze.

“Hey, Isabel, Ed,” Isaac waved a little.

“What are you two doing here in a corner?” Isabel asked instead, not bothering with pleasantries. “This is supposed to be a party, not a punishment.”

“We’re enjoying it though,” Max protested, showing his butterbeer and the long since emptied plate he had.

“Not enough.”

“Well what else do you want me to do, dance?” Max’s brow shot up. “Because I’ve had enough of it to last me a lifetime. I’m not dancing again.”

“Maaax, this is a _ball_ ,” Isabel groaned. “You’re supposed to dance in a ball!”

“Already have!” Max stared at her incredulously. “Seriously, you can’t expect me to prance around on there,” he motioned to the dance floor, “that’s not for me!”

“Isaac is a more serious case on this one,” Ed pointed out, finally stepping forward. “He hasn’t even stepped on the dance floor!”

“I don’t even have a date!” Isaac defended.

“Yeah, ‘cause you _failed_ to get one,” Max muttered.

Isaac burned red immediately. “Like you’re one to talk!”

“Hey, I decided _not_ to get one,” Max defended, “never mind how it got me into the mess earlier. You, on the other hand, tried and failed to score a date.”

“Which is why I don’t want to dance,” Isaac decided to leave the conversation be and instead focused on Isabel and Ed once more. “It’s not like I’m a good dancer or anything anyway.”

Isabel stared at the two of them, looking thoughtful. Then, suddenly, she turned to face Ed. “Hey, Ed, remember how Max owe us one for taking me to that first dance earlier?”

“Yeah,” Ed quickly latched on. “This seems like a good time to call him out on that.”

Max stared. “Are you two planning to make me dance to pay that one off?”

“No, no,” Isabel laughed, and Ed grinned. “We were thinking about making you our slave for, like, two or three days or so. I’m thinking two days, since you’ll take orders from both Ed and I. I’m not evil.”

“Léa suggested it for us earlier when we were dancing,” Ed added. “So, Mr. Slave-for-two-days, your first order is to dance.”

Max muttered curses under his breath before shaking his head. “No. I still don’t want to.”

Isabel’s brow shot up. “Are you sure? Because we were thinking that it was either this or make you take a swim in the lake later, at midnight. And yes, I’m aware that this is winter and the water’s freezing.”

This time the curse was yelled out loud. “Alright, fine,” Max grumbled and turned to Isaac. “You come too.”

Isaac’s eyes widened. “What? No!”

“Hey, if I have to go down like this, I’m not going down alone! You come too!”

“I’m not changing my mind, Max.”

“So you prefer to sit here alone like a loser?”

Five minutes later, all four found themselves on the dance floor, which was packed with people. The band the school hired played songs after songs, keeping the students entertained, this time playing their original song.

“I thought Insolent Children was a Muggle band,” Max spoke up.

“They operate on both Muggle and Wizarding world,” Ed explained. “The leader’s a Muggleborn. They rack cash from both sides. It’s pretty sweet.”

“More importantly, why are you just standing around instead of dancing?” Isabel demanded. “Isaac, too!”

“Looks like we have to go to extremes, Iz,” Ed clenched his fists and pulled Max into a sloppy waltz pose, dragging him around. “Grab Isaac, we’re going to dance!”

“Will do!” Isabel pulled Isaac before he had the chance to escape. Both Isaac and Max’s protests went ignored.

Later, Max would lie when asked, but he ended up enjoying the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the original headcanon says that Cody would go with the Beauxbatons Champion, who is a guy. The thing is that I didn’t realize about how the Beauxbatons Champion was a guy when I first started this fic so it ended up being a girl. So instead, Cody is going with the Durmstrang Champion instead, who is a guy to boot.
> 
> Also, original headcanon says that Max dances with Professor Day, but I feel bad to put him through that... So instead Max strikes a deal with Isabel and Ed.
> 
> Up next would be the 4th interlude, featuring Paskal and Cody!


	8. 4th Interlude: Paskal and Cody

The boy with dark hair, with the sky for his eyes and suns for his smiles, caught Paskal’s sight early on.

He resisted the urge to slap himself in the face. He wasn’t usually this sappy.

Anyway. He first saw the boy he would later refer to as _Cody Jones_ at the Great Hall, in a lazy Sunday morning at breakfast. There weren’t many people in the hall. It was apparently too early for them to be up and about just yet.

But the dark haired boy was there, sitting on the Hufflepuff table with his orange haired friend. He seemed sleepy, and the sunny smile he had was dampened by it, but his eyes were bright as a sunny sky in the middle of a hot summer. Paskal found himself staring at the younger teen, his own dark eyes locked helplessly like a rabbit caught in a snare. The dark haired boy seemed to sense his gaze, and he turned to search the eyes that stared at him.

Just like that, the enchantment broke. So fast that his neck hurt, Paskal turned back to his food, shoving a toast into his mouth as he felt his cheeks burn, wondering what was wrong with him and eternally thanking whatever wizard god out there that none of his friends were present.

That was how he found himself stealing glances at the boy whenever he could, somehow managing to escape getting caught – most of the time. He knew that the boy knew, though, he was sure no one was stupid enough to not realize they were being stared at after at least three times catching the starer in the act.

Interestingly, Paskal felt as though the dark haired boy was starting to steal glances at him, too. But that was probably just a wishful thinking.

Their days passed just like that, in a blur of glances thrown from shoulders and sneaked through their bangs, between meals, during breaks, as they passed one another on the corridor leading to their classes. And then, one time, they tried to catch a glimpse at one another at the same time, and ended up locking their gazes, and it was as if the world was perfect.

For three seconds. Then their faces burned red in record time and they turned away from one another, too embarrassed to say anything.

That was how Paskal found himself here, sitting alone at the bottom of the stairs and lamenting the possibility that everything had been ruined. He hadn’t even gotten to _talk_ to the cutest guy in the whole Hogwarts – and that meant the _building_ , not the _school_ , so he was counting the guys of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons in the calculation as well – and he had potentially destroyed his chances forever.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Maybe there would be some kind of miracle and he would be able to actually _speak_ with the cute boy, whose name he only knew because of the passing words he heard around the black haired boy.

The sound of laughter drew his attention, and he was met with the sight of Cody the cute guy, his friend Jeff with the crazy orange hair, and…

His breath caught. A fellow Champion, Léa.

He watched with the stealth he never knew he had as they chatted and waved, parting ways. And then, before she could get away, he pulled Léa’s hand to a secluded spot behind the stairs, ignoring the girl’s squeak.

“Paskal!” she breathed when she realized who he was, her face flushed in surprise. “What – why – what are you doing?”

“You know that black haired boy?” Paskal asked without bothering to answer Léa’s question.

“Yes,” Léa answered, drawing out the _e_ in suspicion as she patted her hair to perfection. “Why do you ask?”

“How did you know him?”

“We’re the same year, same as Max too. And we have the same Divination and Charms class – seriously, why do you ask? Why does this feel more and more like an interrogation?”

“His full name is Cody Jones, is that right?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Léa glared at him in exasperation. “Merlin, what’s wrong with you? Do you have a crush on him or something?”

_That_ shut him up. He stared at her with his mouth half open, feeling heat rushing to his face.

Léa stared at him back, her own mouth open in surprised _o_. Then, slowly, it morphed into a grin, her eyes twinkling in a way that made Paskal feel ten times more embarrassed than he thought he could be. And just when Paskal thought there was no way he could feel even more embarrassed now, she let out a high-pitched squeal as she shook her hands excitedly.

“Seriously? Oh, _mon Dieu_ , this is both unbelievable and really _cute_ – “

“Léa, stop – “

“ – to think that you’d have a crush on _him_ , of all people – “

“Léa, seriously, stop – “

“ – I can see it already, you two walking together, hand in hand – “

“For Merlin’s sake, Léa – “

“ – maybe a stop at a bistro or maybe walking while eating ice cream – “

“Léa, _please_ – “

“Okay, okay!” Léa’s face was flushed again, and her eyes were bright, brighter than Paskal ever remembered them being. “Since you were asking me about his basic info you probably haven’t known him. I’ll introduce you to him!”

“You’d do that?” Paskal asked, wide-eyed.

“Of course! Cody’s been asking about you, too. Besides, you two are probably some of the only people in the whole three schools to not have realized that you two have been stealing glances at each other.”

Paskal blinked. “You mean he’s been – “

Léa shot to her feet. “Sorry, not supposed to talk about that. But anyway, I’ll find a way to introduce you tomorrow. Stay alert.”

“Léa,” Paskal called, still wanting to confirm his suspicion, but she was intent not to say anything.

“Sorry, Paskal, I have to go!” she began to jog away. “I still have class. See you soon!” And with that, she was gone.

Later, during dinner, Paskal would find a scrap of parchment telling him where to wait for Léa and Cody the next day. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it.

So then he waited at the designated point at the designated time, sitting by the fountain at the courtyard, staring to the big gate leading to the clock tower where he knew Léa and Cody would come from. In his excitement, though, he had come fifteen minutes too early and had to wait around.

Not that he was bothered with it. He enjoyed the cool wind and the relative peacefulness of having no one around, not to mention the partly crumbled pillars surrounding the small fountain was interesting to inspect. He had to admit that Léa picked the right time, considering that most students were usually still snoozing around this time. Maybe it was a good thing that he normally woke up early. Judging by how Léa picked the time, it was likely that Cody was the same.

He turned to stare at the waterworks and the somewhat murky water as well as the four eagles surrounding the fountain. Moss grew out of the rock, layering black with green, and upon the water were some of those float-on-water leaves of water plants he could never remember the name of. Was it _lotus_?

He was soon distracted by the sound of coming footsteps from the clock tower. He calmly turned, and his eyes immediately met sky blue that widened in surprise.

“Ah,” was all Cody exclaimed upon seeing him as the barest hint of pink made its way to his cheeks.

“Um,” Paskal took a deep breath. “I, uh, am waiting for Léa?”

“Yeah, uh,” Cody seemed to be as eloquent with his words as Paskal was, and he honestly wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a consolation or not. “She said she’d come here soon.”

“I see.” Paskal nodded. Cody nodded back. And then there was silence.

From the corner of his eye, Paskal saw a glimpse of a feminine figure that looked suspiciously like Léa, motioning him from afar to carry on the conversation.

So her idea was to throw him headlong into a hellhole of stuttered conversations and bashful gazes. _Shoot_.

The silence between them grew, the awkwardness coming like an annoying pimple at the tip of a nose, begging to be popped. So Paskal did.

“Um. I’m Paskal.”

There was a beat, in which Paskal beat himself mentally because _that was what you came up with? Years of practicing English to prepare yourself if you have to engage in a conversation, and_ that _was what you came up with?!_

But then Cody smiled, and Paskal let go of the breath he didn’t know he held as Cody responded, “I’m Cody.” He made his way to Paskal and sat next to him, surprisingly content despite the pink dusting his cheeks. “I wonder how much longer it will take Léa.”

“Yes, I wonder,” Paskal deadpanned, knowing full well that she might not show up at all.

Cody shuffled nervously next to him, and he was just about to ask why when the sound of people running drew his attention away. He looked up to see the gate in front of the clock tower, just in time to see Max bursting through the door followed by a group of four boys.

“Hey, Cody,” Max casually greeted with a wide grin on his face, dodging to his left as the redhead of the group lunged forward to him. “Paskal, too.”

“Hi?” Paskal responded in uncertainty.

“Nice to see you two, but I got no time to chit-chat, sorry,” Max jumped onto the stone railing that fenced the corridor from the courtyard to avoid the group’s brunette.

“Um, okay?”

“Max, you come here!” the redhead screamed. “Give me back my hair gel!”

“This is just payback for taking my egg, Johnny!” Max shouted back.

“Don’t compare those two!”

“Of course, you’re right. My egg, which holds the clues for the next task in the tournament which may potentially be a hazard to my wellbeing, could not compare to the importance of your beloved hair gel.”

“’course not! My gel’s _way_ important, ‘kay?! Now stop moving and lemme get you!”

Max let out a curse and turned, and he ran straight to where Paskal and Cody were sitting. Before any of them could anticipate it, Max jumped through the air and used the stone pillar by Paskal as a foothold, propelling himself forward. The maneuver surprised Paskal enough that he slipped and splashed into the fountain in a heap. Unfortunately, he had in reflex tried to grab something to hold on to and ended up dragging said something into the water with him, said something being Cody. As such, the two found themselves in the fountain, soaked to the bone.

“Oh, shoot!” Max skidded to a halt and turned to them immediately. “I’m so sorry, man, I forgot you’re a Durmstrang kid! Everyone in Hogwarts pretty much knows about me doing parkour now.”

Paskal stared at him blankly. “You do things like that on a regular basis?”

“Well… about that…”

Max’s words were cut off when Johnny lunged to him with a growl, and Max shrieked before he dodged the attack.

Johnny, apparently, wasn’t having any of this. “Alright, Max… you asked for it. Gang! Formation!”

Max groaned. “Johnny, don’t, you guys stayed up until three to make a nonexistent game last night – “

“That game’s called _hitball_!” Johnny protested. To Paskal’s surprise, he had climbed and sat on the bulkiest guy in his group, and the brunette with a scar across his face had perched upon Johnny’s shoulder, and atop of him the hoodied kid that Paskal had known as RJ and had learned to both fear and respect – no one in Durmstrang hadn’t heard how an unfortunate idiot had called them a ‘him’ and followed by ‘it’, and though the threat of being beaten up by the three other members of Johnny’s little gang was enough to make anyone shiver it was how RJ themselves lift their wand and soundlessly light the idiot’s robes on fire that sealed the deal.

When the tower of people was completed, Johnny laughed. “Let’s see how you fare against Frienship Fusion, Max!”

“Aren’t I your friend too?”

“Someone who stole my hair gel isn’t my friend! Ollie, charge!”

“Johnny, seriously, you gotta stop before you hurt yourself – “ Max shrieked, cutting of his own words when the tower of teens wobbled, swayed along the wind, and toppled with a mighty crash. “ _I told you not to do it but you just had to and look what you’ve done._ ”

“This is nothing! We’ve had worse!”

“Stephen, you’re bleeding.”

There was a collective gasp before Johnny screamed, “ _We gotta find Professor Zarei!_ ”

Somehow, that was able to break Paskal out of his stupor at the group’s utter craziness. He nudged Cody, and the younger boy climbed up and out of the fountain before offering his hand to help Paskal do the same. As he stood by the fountain, Paskal caught sight of the large bald member of the gang carrying the scarred one on his shoulder, running to the Hospital Wing, with RJ hot on his heels and Johnny following not too far behind, dragging a protesting Max.

“We’re wet,” Cody observed, staring at their dripping clothes.

“Oh, let me take care of that,” Paskal calmly whipped out his wand and made a complicated wand gesture, muttering a spell. Hot air quickly streamed from the tip of his wand, and he quickly used it to dry Cody’s clothes before doing the same to his own. “I’ve know this spell for quite a while. But it only dries, it doesn’t clean. Your clothes is probably still really dirty. We should change.”

Cody sniffed his clothes and wrinkled his nose. “Mmh. What’s is that fountain…?”

“Maybe we’ll be better off not knowing,” Paskal glanced at the fountain.

“Come on, let’s go to the Hufflepuff common room,” Cody waved to Paskal. “We’ll let you use the showers and lend some clean clothes if you promise to keep silent about where the door is and how to get in.”

“Of course,” Paskal agreed readily. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They walked together to the Hufflepuff common room, side by side and perhaps a little too close, the back of their hands touching every so often as they talked about anything that came to mind. It surprised them at first, how easily the words flowed, but maybe an incident involving a fountain and tripping into it together could bring anyone together.

Again, Paskal caught the sight of Léa from the corner of his eye. She pumped her fists silently in triumph and gestured to him to go ahead quickly. Paskal resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d rather take his time, instead.

“Wait, what about Léa?” Cody suddenly asked.

“Don’t worry,” Paskal assured, “I’m sure she won’t be angry at us for being a little late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did good with this. Romance was never my good point, and budding romance is usually pretty hard for me. Well-established relationship is where I'm good at, especially with fanfics, because I've already seen the canon ship interact with each other... but anyway here, have a fistful of Paskal and Cody being dorks.
> 
> Well, hope you enjoyed this anyway.


	9. The Second Task

_Dear Max,_

_Hi! How’s it going there? We’ve heard about how you entered the Triwitch Tournament or something. It sounds really exciting! We were told it’s dangerous though. Are you okay?_

_So here’s the deal; me and Dad will come to Hogwarts to watch you compete! We’ll come for the second round and later for the third. Your headmaster promised to help us! She even said she’ll give us something to go past the anti-Muggle spell in Hogwarts. I never get why you need those around though, it’s not like people will believe you if you say you saw a bunch of teens making sparks with a stick. People will probably think they’re just playing with fireworks or something._

_Anyway, we’ll get there on the day the second round’s held. We’ll see you at the arena. Try to win and make your daddy proud, Maxie, he’s been yapping about how his weird psychic of a son is gonna win world tournament. But hey, have fun! And don’t lose your head or something._

_Love,_

_Zoey_

Max stared at the letter his sister had sent him with a dry smile on his face. _Don’t lose your head or something_. He had read the letter multiple times since receiving it a few weeks before, but he still couldn’t take his eyes off the sentence. Was it his brand of humor rubbing off on her?

Still, she said that they were coming the day of the second task. That meant today.

“Hey, Max,” Isaac called as he passed the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, “you ready yet?”

“Yeah,” Max answered promptly, quickly gulping down some water before joining Isaac and Ed and Isabel, who had waited at the door for him, to the Great Lake for his second task.

“Are they here yet?” Isaac asked as they walked. “Your family?”

“If they are, I haven’t seen them yet,” Max answered, frowning.

“Maybe they’re at the lake already,” Isabel supplied.

Max grunted a response, but was otherwise silent. His stomach rolled with unease, but he said nothing about it. The walk to the Great Lake was silent, but when they were close enough to see something resembling a stadium that had been built overnight there, Ed whistled.

“Well, will you look at that,” he said with an awed grin. “It really is here.”

Max snorted. “Good thing I can swim. I still would prefer that scuba gear, though.”

Isaac threw him an incredulous look. “ _Again_ , that thing cost a fortune.”

“Still would’ve made me feel more secure than using Bubble-Head charm! I mean I’ve tested it before, but using it in the lake is going to be really different from the bathtub, you know…”

Isaac suddenly grinned in amusement. “You used the same tub as the one we used to first open your egg, right?”

Max mirrored his grin. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Isabel snickered. “I’m pretty sure we’d win an award for oddest way to solve the egg clue if it existed.”

“I don’t know,” Max shrugged. “I spoke to them. Paskal said he got the inspiration to bathe with the egg for some reason and found out, but Léa told me that she was walking near the lake and got mad because she couldn’t figure out the egg, so she threw it into the lake _while open and screaming_.” He laughed and shook his head. “It was pretty crazy too.”

“Hey, Stephen and Johnny figure it out with _a bottle of butterbeer_ ,” Ed reminded. “We won points for ingenuity, there.”

Max couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up his throat when he remembered how, exactly, he figured out that the egg needed to be opened underwater. It was a few weeks back, maybe a week or two after the Yule Ball. Max had wanted to be able to crack the egg puzzle so he could prepare on the spells he might need, but every time the egg was opened, only horrible shrieking could be heard.

Stephen was the first to give out a crazy idea – not surprising considering that he _was_ Stephen. “The egg needs to be given an offering!” he declared.

“What? Offering?” Max repeated incredulously.

“Yes, offering,” Stephen reiterated, completely serious. “Like blood.”

“Dude, that sounds scary,” Isaac grimaced.

“Let’s try something else,” Ed suggested. “What about wine?”

“We’ve got butterbeer,” Johnny lifted a bottle of butterbeer for all to see.

“Good enough,” Stephen declared, taking Max’s egg.

“Wait. We are not – “

Max’s sentence was cut off when Stephen opened the latch above the egg and the familiar deafening shriek sounded. He automatically pressed his hands to his ears to block out the noise, staring in helpless annoyance when Johnny began pouring the butterbeer to the aquarium-like interior of the egg.

But then it began to sound… weird. Not necessarily better. Well, maybe better – the screaming turned into something akin of gurgling, but there seemed to be some words in it. Once the butterbeer was out, though, the shrieking was back. RJ quickly took it and snapped it close.

“We are _not_ pouring more butterbeer on my egg,” Max hissed sternly when he saw Johnny reaching for another bottle.

RJ, however, simply calmly opened the egg once more and poured water on it. It yielded similar result to the butterbeer. “Water works just fine,” they declared after closing the egg again.

“Okay, so… what about we just submerge the egg and open it underwater, then?” Isabel suggested. All eyes were at Max at once.

“Well it’s not like we have any idea how to crack the puzzle so the idea is as good as any,” Max admitted.

Stephen had the gall to look offended. “So dumping it in the water is good but giving it an offering is not?”

“Look, there is a difference between putting it in the water and dousing it with butterbeer, okay?”

Ollie put his hands up and effectively ended the argument before it truly started. “There is no need to fight. Let’s concentrate on the egg first.”

RJ handed the egg to Max, and he took it, feeling the sticky butterbeer under his fingers. “Let’s go,” RJ said simply, and the other complied. That was how they ended up in the Slytherin baths, filling a bathtub with water to the brim and dunking the egg in it. Max opened the latch underwater, and muffled singing immediately sounded.

The teens looked at each other before simultaneously putting their heads in the water to hear the voice. Any onlooker would have laughed, seeing eight teenagers putting their heads in the same tub filled with water, but at that moment they didn’t particularly care about it. Their attention was absorbed in the now audible, fully understandable words flowing from the egg, which turned out to be a song.

_“Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you’re searching ponder this;_

_We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_To recover what we took,_

_But past an hour, the prospect’s black,_

_Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.”_

Ed was the first to pull his head back out, followed soon by Isabel, and then the others. Max was the last one to pull out of the water, rubbing his face and hair to rid them of excess liquid.

“That didn’t sound ominous at all,” he commented grimly. “So I guess I’m going to see some sort of underwater creature here?”

“Merpeople, most likely,” Isabel supplied at once. “My grandfather talks about them sometimes. Merpeople’s voice sounds different in and out of the water. He’s said that there are some living in the Great Lake. Shouldn’t you be able to see them from the Slytherin dorm?”

“Yeah, but they don’t come too close to the dorm so we can’t exactly _look_ at them – Wait.“ Max paused. “So I have to swim in the Great Lake, look for something the Merpeople stole from me, and only have an hour to do all of it?”

“That sounds like it, yeah.”

“Will I have to face the giant squid?”

The other seven teenagers displayed shades of horror and panic immediately. “The giant squid is semi-domesticated,” Ollie said, brows furrowed. “And it hasn’t harmed anyone so you should be okay…”

“What will they take, though?” Max wondered, deciding to let go of the giant squid problem. “What I’ll sorely miss? What, my hat?”

“We’ll know when something goes missing,” Isabel answered flippantly. “Now we should find a way to make you able to breathe underwater.”

“Oh, oh,” Stephen perked up in excitement, “I heard there’s this plant that makes you grow gills and enable you to breathe underwater.”

“And where would we get it?” Ed asked, lifting a brow.

Stephen backed down instantly. “Good point.”

“Well there’s this thing Muggles use called scuba gear,” Max began, but Isaac shook his head instantly.

“My muggle parent dives sometimes, and I know for a fact that scuba gear cost you _a lot_ ,” Isaac explained. “Better not use it, honestly.”

“Why not just use the Bubble-Head charm?” Isabel asked.

“Bobble what charm?” Max turned to her with a furrow of his brows.

“Bubble-Head charm,” Isabel repeated. “It gives you this sort of bubble around your nose, mouth, and neck area and provides oxygen. I think it’s good enough for the task.”

That was how he ended up practicing the spell on himself, using his bathtub to check for leaks and whatnot. So far it seemed good, but he had never tried actually swimming with it, so he wouldn’t know how it would be in the lake.

He snapped out of his reverie when they reached the stadium-like building, hearing cheers, excited chit-chat, and music filling the air. Automatically, Max scanned the crowd, trying to place his family in the crowd. No such luck. He kept searching even when Johnny and the gang joined him, feeling his stomach roll with foreboding when he still couldn’t place both his dad and Zoey. He didn’t even register when Professor Spender pulled him to the shore to line up with the other Champions.

The loud voice of the commentator of the games blared suddenly, jolting him. Max quickly pushed his worries aside and listened to the commentator. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second task of the famed Triwizard Tournament!” he yelled, voice booming with the help of a spell. “As I am sure you have already figured out, the task will be held underwater. We have taken something of importance from each Champion,” his eyes glinted as he glanced at the three Champions, who had stripped down to their swimming attire, “and they will be given an hour to retrieve these… items. They will be deemed successful when they reach the shore with their precious something.

“The Champions will begin when I blow this whistle,” he held up a whistle for all to see. “The scores they have will be calculated later on. Champions, are you ready?”

Paskal nodded. Léa shrugged. Max grumbled, “Doesn’t matter if we’re ready or not, you’ll still blow the whistle.”

“Let’s begin the task in three… two… one!” _Fweet!_

Simultaneously, the three Champions rushed to the water and swam, diving down the water as fast as they could. Max gritted his teeth at the water’s freezing temperature, consoling himself that he would soon get used to it. He would be moving, anyway, and that should be good enough.

Paskal took out his wand and silently muttered a spell, and Max had to sputter in surprise and waste some precious oxygen when the Durmstrang Champion turned into a dolphin. He knew Paskal was good with Transfiguration, but he didn’t know he was _that_ good. Well, he still had some human parts, like his legs and arms, but seeing that his other parts were all dolphin Max felt like he had stepped into some kind of childish horror story with weird body horror that somehow managed to work out of its sheer creepiness.

Léa rolled her eyes and took out her wand, as well, motioning her wand and creating a mask-like cocoon that wrapped around the lower half of her face down to her chest. It was the same spell Max would be using, the Bubble-Head charm. Realizing that he was beginning to feel suffocated, Max copied the action, quickly sighing in relief when he felt the fresh air entering his lungs.

Paskal, unsurprisingly, swam forward the fastest. Léa quickly followed, surprising Max with her grace and ease of movements. He quickly rushed to follow, unwilling to be left behind. But then the thought of having to search the whole lake crossed his mind, and he realized trying to follow the other Champions was downright stupid if they end up unable to find the place where their precious things were put in anyway. He took off after deciding where to go, memorizing where the shore the stadium was.

After some time of swimming around trying to find out what exactly had been taken from him, soft, familiar singing met Max’s ears. He looked around, trying to place where it came from. The words were muffled by the distance, but the melody was eerily familiar.

Then it hit him. It was the same song that was in the golden egg.

Max swam to where he felt the voice came from, pleased to realize that it was gradually getting louder. The words began to make sense, little by little. He could see looming stone arches growing near, and he realized that the song came from there. He worked his limbs as fast as he could, eager to get to the stone arches.

When he got there, he was met with many creatures he instantly recognized as Merpeople. Their skin was grey and their hair greenish, and Max caught sight of their webbed fingers and ears. The fish tails were a dead giveaway, really. They looked nothing like Disney’s _Little Mermaid_ , that was for sure. Some of them pointedly looked at a direction, and Max turned to see what was there. He realized that there was some sort of plaza there, with a huge statue of some dude with a trident. It reminded Max of Triton of _Little Mermaid_. Or was it supposed to depict someone else entirely? Poseidon, maybe?

He squinted as he moved toward the statue. It seemed like there were something attached to it. Several somethings, actually. They looked like… people? And it looked like there was someone else there already, a feminine figure. Was it Léa?

He swam there with a burst of bubbles trailing behind him, suddenly panicking. Is this what they meant by something he’d sorely miss? They took _people_?

The figure that he saw was Léa, after all. When he got near her, she was dragging her date at the Yule Ball – Valentin – as she swam to the direction of the shore. She nodded to him when their eyes met, and he nodded back as he hurried to the statue.

At the bottom of the statue’s trident was Cody, tied there securely with something that looked suspiciously alike to seaweed. His head lolled to his shoulder, and his face looked eerily tranquil. It seemed that he had been enchanted to sleep, but the way Max looked it, it looked more like he was already a drowned corpse.

He slapped himself mentally for that. Cody was still alive. The bubbles escaping from his lips and nose told him just as much.

The gears in his mind began to work. Léa’s hostage was her Yule Ball date. Cody was Paskal’s, so it was likely that Paskal was supposed to rescue Cody. But what about him? Was he supposed to rescue Isabel? But she was there with him at the stadium just before he dove into the water. Then again, if not her, then who?

He swam around the statue, not wholly surprised when finding that it had a fish tail trailing back. And then he froze.

Her hair had gotten longer, but it was still tied in the same side-ponytail she had kept since little. The fiery strands whipped about her face like some kind of underwater bonfire, but he could still see her visage, with her eyes closed and lips slightly parted, most likely enchanted to sleep just like Cody was.

“Zoey,” he whispered softly, eyes widening. Without wasting any more time, he dove down to her shook her, hoping to somehow draw out a sign of life from her other from the bubbles that escaped from her lips. There was no change whatsoever. In frustration, Max began to pull at the seaweed until his sister came loose, swearing that he would totally scream at whoever designed the game because _how dare they just tie people up underwater, that is so messed up._

He took the seaweed that once tied Zoey to the statue and used it to tie her to his back so he could swim more easily, positioning her so that it could feel like he was giving her a piggyback ride instead. Her head lolled onto his shoulder, and he gripped her hand. With that done with, he swam back to the shore, hoping that there would be nothing to complicate the task.

Now that he wasn’t concentrating on finding something that was taken from him, he realized how dark it actually was at the lake. It was so deep, so wide, and all of a sudden he felt small. Panic settled in his chest as he felt some sort of weird reverse claustrophobia settling in, and he berated himself mentally, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. There was no use panicking. He needed to go to the shore and panicking will most likely just made him lose his way and he really didn’t want that. When the wave of panic passed, he continued his way to the shore. The lingering reverse claustrophobia thing didn’t go away.

He must have gone more than halfway back to the shore when he saw something slithering in the water, large and definitely threatening. Max’s stomach churned instantly, remembering about the existence of the giant squid of the Great Lake all of a sudden. He really hoped that the squid wasn’t in chow mood, because he and Zoey might as well be tasty anchovies for it if it felt like eating them. Max swam as fast as he could without looking suspiciously alike to running away. He didn’t know about squids, but he’d heard about how predators would chase after things that ran away from them.

Up ahead was a field of those seaweed, and Max swam to it, wishing to hide from the giant squid’s tentacles. He knew he wasn’t too far away from the shore, now. He remembered passing through the field before.

As he swam through the dancing weeds, something moved and caught his eyes. He looked around even as he pushed forward, heart thumping in anxiety. He literally had no idea what he was going against, and that scared him. He adjusted Zoey’s position on his back and swam again, faster this time.

And then something grabbed his leg.

Max screamed in pain and surprise, looking down to see a grindylow. A lot more quickly appeared around him, their own sickly green color making it hard for Max to see them between the weeds. They lunged at him, biting and scratching, their brittle-looking fingers surprisingly strong as they gripped and pulled him down. Max lashed and snarled in retaliation, trying as hard as he could to keep Zoey safe. She could be fierce when she wanted to, and Max had no doubt that she could beat up a mafia gang with nothing but a golf club and self-taught fencing that she no doubt got from watching _Star Wars_ with their dad, but she couldn’t defend herself when she was unconscious.

Max glared at a grindylow’s particularly pointy teeth as it lunged to him, suddenly remembering that one lesson from Professor Garcia. _“Grindylows eat humans too, sometimes, so you’d better be careful with them.”_

Wonderful. No wonder they had been biting him relentlessly. It hurt, and the lakewater was turning red.

_“Using fire-based spells should work nicely. They tend to create extreme heat underwater. Also the Revulsion Jinx, when they’re getting too grabby.”_

It didn’t take Max a long time to decide and whip out his wand. “ _Relashio_ ,” he hissed, and a jet of hot water burst from the wand and making the grindylows let go of him. Some of them stubbornly swam to him, so he spoke again, “ _Incendio. Confringo!_ ” He smiled in satisfaction when the grindylows swam away in panic at the heat from the wand. He swam up, away from the seaweed, deciding that fending off grindylows wasn’t worth his time. He turned and swam backwards for a bit, to see if there were some stray grindylow that still felt like having some Max fillet, but thankfully there were none. Afar, the silhouette of the giant squid waved its tentacles at him, as if saying goodbye.

He turned back to the shore and swam as fast as he could, eager to break to the surface. It didn’t take that long to reach the shore, however. His head broke the water’s surface when he got to shallower waters, and the Bubble-Head charm broke, the bubble popping away. On his back, Zoey stirred awake.

“Oh, Maxie!” she greeted happily.

“Don’t _Maxie_ me,” Max grumbled instantly. “Do you know how worried I was when I didn’t see you at the stadium this morning? I’m going to see the headmaster and file a complaint or something.”

“Geez, Max, calm down,” Zoey adjusted her position on Max’s back, hugging his neck comfortably. “I agreed to this.”

“You agreed to this?!” Max repeated in disbelief.

“Yeah! I mean, Dad encouraged it, but it was still my decision.”

“What kind of father encouraged that kind of action?!”

“Oh, chill, it’s not like I got hurt or anything – “ Zoey stopped. “Uh, actually. I have some cuts on my arms and legs that I don’t remember getting?”

“Oh, that,” Max grimaced, suddenly realizing that he had way more cuts than Zoey, and now that they were exposed to the chilly air, the pain hit him full-force. “That’s actually because of me. Sorry.”

“Because of you?” Zoey gasped. “Max! Blood!” she paused. “Yours…?”

“Yeah, mine,” Max admitted. “Freaking grindylows wouldn’t leave me alone…” He noticed how Zoey’s hands shook, and how her body was tense. “Don’t worry, Professor Zarei will fix us both. Let’s just get to the shore first – what are you doing?”

“There’s no way I’ll let you carry me when you’re bleeding all over the lake like this,” Zoey replied, pulling the seaweed-rope Max had used to secure them together loose and discarded it in the water. “I can swim by myself. And I’m okay with being the one to carry you, too.”

Max snorted and started swimming to the stadium, ignoring the roaring cheers coming from there. “Zo, let me have my pride.”

“Says the guy who cried when he hit his head to a table?”

“What the – how do you even still remember that? And in my defense, I was seven!”

They dragged themselves to the shore, feeling their own weight pressing down on them. The crowd gasped and cried when they saw Max, surprised at the bleeding cuts and forming bruises. Professor Zarei shot to him and ushered him to the spot where Paskal and Cody were already sitting in. Léa and Valentin were still nowhere to be found.

“Sit,” Zarei ordered sternly and Max complied instantly, knowing full well that it wasn’t a good idea to argue with her at times like these. “What caused these?”

“Grindylows,” Max answered.

“You dove into the field of weeds, didn’t you? Didn’t Garcia tell you about grindylows already?”

Max bit his tongue, suddenly reminded that Zarei was responsible for the Slytherin students. “I forgot there are grindylows at the lake.”

“Obviously,” Zarei huffed, flicking her wand. Max’s wounds healed little by little until they were all gone, leaving only the bloodied trail. “Tell me later if there are some complications,” she ordered before tending to Zoey.

“Hey, Max,” Cody called, handing him some blankets to fend off the cold. “One for you and one for the girl.”

“Thanks,” Max nodded at him. When Zarei left, he gave the blanket to Zoey. “By the way, Zoey, these are my friends, Cody and Paskal. Cody and Paskal, this is Zoey, my intern.”

“ _I am your sister, Max!_ ” Zoey protested instantly, fuming when she only received a smirk in return.

“Léa and her date still hasn’t come back yet?” Max asked Paskal and Cody.

“Not yet,” Paskal answered. “But they should arrive soon.”

On cue, cheers exploded as the last Champion and her hostage finally reached the shore. It died instantly, though, when Léa began yelling to Valentin.

“You got taken?” she accused, sounding positively livid.

“Hey, I am contributing to the tournament,” Valentin defended himself.

“Still, you didn’t think you should tell me something?” Léa demanded. “Do you know I had been looking for you all morning? I missed breakfast!”

“If I told you where I’m going then the tournament wouldn’t be fair! You’ll know about the challenge beforehand!”

Léa recoiled as though slapped, cursed in German, then switched to French completely, and Valentin readily retorted in the same language. Some of the Beauxbatons students laughed and cheered at them, the rest listened intently. The screaming match continued in their native language, and Max felt completely lost trying to understand.

Léa spat something at Valentin that made several students of her school snicker. Then Valentin yelled to her face, and suddenly everything was silent as Léa gaped. And then her face went as red as a tomato, and the other Beauxbatons students whistled and cooed.

“I’m lost,” Zoey declared aloud.

“Same here,” Max agreed.

“Well, my French is limited,” Paskal began, “but Léa admitted she was really worried for Valentin, and Valentin is sick of Léa yelling at him so he’s just threatened to kiss Léa in public.”

“That’s very… bold,” Cody blinked, staring at Léa, who was opening and closing her mouth wordlessly, still looking red in the face. He turned to look at Paskal, and a tint of pink quickly made its way to his cheeks, his eyes not leaving Paskal.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” Zoey commented. “It’s like a free soap opera!”

“Zoey, you’re like five, you’re too young for that.”

Zoey glared at Max. “Max, I know your secrets since little. I can just blab everything to Isabel later, you know.”

Max cursed under his breath.

Both Léa and Valentin came to where Paskal, Cody, Max, and Zoey were already huddled together for warmth. Max made no effort to hide his grin when he saw Léa’s red face, and she grumbled and shoved him lightly, refusing to meet his eyes – or anyone else’s, really. She wrapped herself in her blanket, muttering things to Valentin in their mother language.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the commentator’s voice boomed in the stadium, and onlookers cheered before calming down to let him finish his words. “Our Champions have finally returned from their task, successfully retrieving their hostages! We will now see the result!

“Paskal Asenov had shown a terrific skill in Transfiguration by transfiguring himself partly into a dolphin. This had given him the speed boost necessary to search the lake. He unfortunately found the Merpeople’s village last, however he managed to swim back to the shore the fastest and was the first to complete this task, only five minutes before the time limit passed. For this, he is rewarded thirty four points!”

Cheers roared, and the loudest came from where most Durmstrang students sat together. Max threw a smile to Paskal, who grinned in pride and nudged Cody’s hand happily.

“Maxwell Puckett had used the Bubble-Head charm to be able to breathe underwater,” the commentator announced when the cheers passed. “He had some problems with the grindylows of the lake, but managed to fend them off, although not without pain, and returned back three minutes outside the time limit. For his efforts, he is awarded thirty three points!”

Again, cheers roared. Max couldn’t help the smile that took over his lips. By his side, Zoey clapped her hands loudly with a grin on her face. Max grinned back and slung his arm around her shoulder, and both laughed.

“Last but not least, Léa Durand! She also demonstrated a Bubble-Head charm to breathe. She found the Merpeople’s village first, but difficulty in bringing her hostage back and some challenges from our very own giant squid stalled her, and for the result she returned here the last.”

Cody looked horrified. “The giant squid stalled you? But I thought it was nice and cuddly.”

“Not nice and cuddly,” Léa disagreed instantly. “It didn’t do anything, but it kept blocking my way and pushing me back with its tentacles. It was more annoying than anything.” She turned to Valentin. “And you were heavy to drag.”

“That is rude and uncalled for, Léa,” Valentin glared in annoyance.

“For her efforts,” the commentator continued, “the judges had awarded her thirty two points!” He waited for the cheers to subside. “As it stands, Mr. Asenov has the total of sixty six points, Mr. Puckett has sixty three points, and Miss Durand, sixty points!

“Now that the task is done, we will have a long and nice break until the third task, which will be held in July. Congratulations to the Champions, and have a lovely spring!”

Zoey sprung up suddenly as soon as the commentator was done speaking. “Dad!” she cried, and Max automatically straightened up and turned to where Zoey was looking, scanning the crowd to see the familiar figure.

When he saw him, he scowled, waiting until Dad was close enough before growling, “Father.”

“Son,” Dad answered with an easy grin.

“Daughter,” Zoey added.

“Zoey said you encouraged her decision of participating in the game?” Max asked, scowling.

“Oh, yeah!” Dad adjusted his glasses, grin still wide. “The headmaster came to us, you know? She said something about a missing piece in the second round and someone needs to play hostage. Zoey was totally down with it.”

“And you were okay with your daughter being held underwater for an _hour_?” Max’s voice rose.

“Actually, I was spelled to sleep at the crack of dawn,” Zoey corrected.

“And I honestly didn’t know that Zoey would be held underwater,” Dad defended himself, though he didn’t seem at all guilty. “I thought there will be some kind of an island where she’d be put or something.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?!”

“Hey, chill, Max,” Zoey patted him on the arm. “I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but what would I do if you turned out _not_ to be fine?” Max asked back, brows knitted together. “I mean, you’re basically playing hostage for me here.”

“Aw, Max, are you worried for me?” Zoey teased, nudging Max with a grin on her face.

“Well considering that _someone_ ,” Max pointedly glared at Dad, “clearly isn’t, it’s kind of my job to worry.”

“Aw, look at you!” Dad lunged and enveloped Max in a big hug. “Growing into a responsible big bro. Aren’t you just precious?”

“No offense, Dad, but I kinda want to turn you into a cashier machine right now,” Max grumbled, but didn’t fight the hug. The warmth was admittedly nice, thought he’d never say that to anyone.

Dad gasped animatedly. “Zoey! The weird psychic wants to voodoo me into a cashier machine! Help me restrain him!”

“Got it!” Zoey rammed into Max’s side, circling her hands around his waist. “Restraints on, Dad! You’re safe now!”

Max groaned loudly. “Why is it that every time someone in this family initiates a group hug, I always end up being the one squished in the middle?” he lamented.

“Because you’re the one who’s all _too cool for hugs_ , duh,” Zoey rolled her eyes. “So we gotta be the ones to do the do!”

“Hey, I’m not too cool for hugs. I just prefer some distance, okay?”

Zoey was the one to gasp animatedly, this time. “Dad! Max just can’t see the magic behind cuddles!”

“Tighten your hold, daughter of mine!” Dad commanded as though directing a whole army. “We will hug Max and we will not let go until he sees the magic of hugs!”

“Breathing space, people, give me some breathing space!” Max protested, but his lips curled into a happy grin all the same.

In the end, Max never asked them to let go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is by far my longest chapter yet. It's practically a quarter of the whole fic so far already. It took over while I was writing, I didn't mean to write it this long, I'm sorry if any of you feel it's too long.
> 
> And I should tell you that this might be the last chapter you'll get for a while. I plan to go to visit my sister who's studying abroad, and the trip alone will last three weeks, and I'm not going to have my laptop with me. Then I'm planning to have a lasik surgery, and then I'm moving to another town to attend uni. Life, it hits you hard and relentlessly. I suspect I'll only be able to write freely again by the end of August. Maybe even September. Sorry.  
> BUT. If I manage to write the next interlude quickly, I'll post it sometime this week! Don't count on it, though, cause I'm going to try, but I won't promise it'll be ready in time.


	10. 5th Interlude: The Pucketts and Boss Leader

The day started just like the usual weekend in the Puckett household. Dad would wake up early to prepare to open the store and manage it, and Zoey would sleep until eight before getting up, fixing a breakfast for both her and Dad, which usually consisted in toasts, jams, and cereal with either milk or orange juice, and a separate glass or water. It had been an unspoken agreement by now; Zoey would fix the breakfast or brunch during the weekends, Dad would do it on weekdays, and Max would do it all whenever he was home, which was just during summer break.

So the sudden boom and poof in the living room when Dad was about to come downstairs to man the shop again was a surprising change.

Zoey stuck her head out from the kitchen to see what was going on, immediately suspecting that Dad had played around with some small fireworks indoors. But no, he was peeking from the stairs, for once looking deadly serious and tense.

In the middle of the living room was someone that looked like a woman, wearing a onesie that looked suspiciously like a tuxedo, with its collar up and tail swishing. The person’s face was obscured by bandages covering their whole head, as were the hands.

“Is this the Puckett household?” the voice was decidedly feminine, and the question was directed at both Zoey and Dad, whom she had noticed as she looked around.

“It is,” Dad rose from the stairs, climbing up to the room. “And you are…?”

“I am Boss Leader, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she offered her hand to Dad, which he shook quickly. “I’m here to talk to you about your son, Maxwell.”

“Why? Is he hurt?” Dad’s eyes widened in alarm.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Boss Leader quickly diffused, and Dad calmed considerably. “Perhaps it will be better if we sit down. And,” she turned to Zoey, who jumped in surprise, “I’d be glad if you can join us too. You are Maxwell’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Zoey nodded, creeping into the living room and standing next to her father, staring at the stranger who introduced herself as Max’s school’s headmaster, unsure of what to make of her. “Zoey Puckett.”

“You know, I had been hoping that you’d enroll at Hogwarts, as well,” she told her, “but maybe it’s good that you’re not there. Hogwarts might not be ready for two young Pucketts at once.”

“Did Max do something?” Dad asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well, I’m not sure if he told you this or not, but he got himself a detention the first night he came to school.”

Dad let loose a laugh. “He never told. I never knew he could be _that_ much of a troublemaker.”

“Oh, you’ve got a lot to learn, Dad,” Zoey muttered, casting her gaze aside, remembering the letters Max sent specifically for her that told his misadventures.

“Oh, yeah, sitting down,” Dad exclaimed, suddenly remembering what Boss Leader said, and turned around. “It’s a bit messy, but please, make yourself at home,” he said, patting a couch pillow clean.

Zoey grimaced. _Messy_ didn’t even begin to describe the state the living room was in. The previous night, she and Dad had been watching several Disney movies together (of course _Star Wars_ were among them), and as per their usual movie night, they had eaten bags of chips and dips. The crumbs were all over the place as they hadn’t gotten to cleaning yet, and at some places, visible smudge of dripped dips greeted cheerfully.

Boss Leader didn’t seem at all disturbed, however, calmly sitting down on a couch after patting it clean. She looked around and commented, “This is a comfortable house.”

“We struck luck when we got this,” Dad grinned. “Can I get you anything? Water, coffee, soda?”

“Water would be fine,” Boss Leader politely answered, and Dad nodded to Zoey. She quickly went to the kitchen to take three glasses of water, placing them on the table.

“So, you said you’re here to talk about Max?” Dad prompted.

“Ah, yes,” Boss Leader nodded. “Has he told you that he had been chosen to represent our school in a three-way school tournament?”

“He hasn’t,” Dad lifted a brow. “What’s this tournament about?”

“It’s called the Triwizard Tournament, a set of games in which three students from three wizarding schools – Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons – compete in the name of their respective school,” Boss Leader explained. “The aim of this tournament is to strengthen the bond of friendship between the three schools. Students that are chosen to represent their school are called Champions, and they will face three tests in the tournament. It varies, changes every time we hold the tournament. They are designed to push the Champions to their limits to see if they have necessary magical knowledge and wits to win. The tasks could get dangerous at times, but rest assured, we have a team of professionals handling the tournament.”

“Oh, that sounds exciting!” Dad’s eyes were positively gleaming with excitement. “And Max is one of these Champions?”

“Yes.”

Dad turned to Zoey, a grin on his face. “The family’s weird psychic is in a world tournament, Zoey.”

“He’d better win,” Zoey returned the grin.

“Of course he’s going to win!” Dad retorted, sounding playfully indignant. “He’s _our_ Max.” He sighed. “Too bad we can’t do any magicking around. I’d love to help and go there to see how he does, myself.”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Boss Leader spoke up, lifting the glass of water Zoey had taken for her and took a sip, ignoring the bandages on her face. When she put down the glass, the water had reduced considerably, and the bandages weren’t the slightest bit wet. “I was hoping you could help me with the tasks.”

“Oh, of course!” Dad eagerly nodded. “What could we do?”

“You see, there is a tradition that in the second task, someone the Champions hold dear would be taken somewhere, and the Champions have to retrieve them within a set time, usually an hour or so.” Even through the bandages, Zoey could feel Boss Leader’s gaze on her and Dad, weighing, judging. “Traditionally, we will take someone the Champions took to a ball – “

Zoey gasped. “A ball? You mean like a huge dance with frilly dresses?”

“Yes,” Boss Leader nodded, and Zoey could hear her smirk at her enthusiasm. “It’s another tradition for us to hold a ball in December, during the tournament. We will take the Champions’ date as the hostage of the task, unless there is someone else who seems like are even more priceless for the Champion.

“You see, here lies the problem. With the other Champions, we can see easily that their dates are the people they hold dear the most. With Maxwell, it isn’t like that. He is equally close to his date as he is with his other friends. We need to have only one person, and he or she needs to be someone closest to the Champion. It’s part of the test. As such, we currently have no hostage for Maxwell.”

“So you were hoping that one of us could be the hostage,” Dad concluded immediately.

“Precisely,” Boss Leader nodded. “I have a feeling that Zoey here would be a great participant.”

“Me?” Zoey’s eyes widened immediately. Her enthusiasm spiked again. “What do I have to do?”

“We plan to have the hostages kept at the lake near the school,” Boss Leader explained. “We will spell them to sleep, so you only need to allow yourself to be spelled and wait until your brother comes to you.”

“That’s it?” Zoey cocked her head. “That doesn’t sound too hard.”

“Oh, come on, Zoey,” Dad laughed. “When else are you going to be able to participate in something like this?”

“That’s true,” Zoey nodded, thinking to herself. “Okay, I’ll do it!”

“Splendid,” Boss Leader’s grin was audible. “I will allow you two to come to Hogwarts on the day of the task. The same service will be provided for the third task, later in the semester.”

“Wait,” Zoey looked at the headmistress, “Max said something about Hogwarts being a giant Muggle repellant?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Boss Leader eased, “I will make sure that you both will be able to enter. I know spells to bypass the enchantments around the castle, and I’ll cast them to you myself.”

“Sweet,” Zoey grinned, calmly leaning to the couch. There was nothing else to be worried about, then.

“By the way, Mr. Puckett,” Boss Leader spoke up, “I have been curious of the Muggle cultures for a while. I had Muggle Studies during my own school years, however things have changed and I can’t help but wonder what these interesting objects are,” she gestured to several electronic devices in the room.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Dad pointed at the TV. “That’s a TV. It broadcasts news and movies and shows all over the country.”

“Like a radio?” Boss Leader asked.

“Yes, but it has visuals, too,” Dad switched the TV on, and Boss Leader hummed in interest at the moving pictures and sounds that came out of it. “And below that? That’s our collection of gaming devices. We use it to play games.”

“Games?” Boss Leader repeated. “What kind of games can you play with those metal and plastic boxes?”

At first, Dad looked scandalized, before realization dawned in his eyes and he turned to Zoey giddily. “Oh boy, where do I start? Zoey, what do you feel about Mario Kart?”

Zoey mirrored his expression immediately, standing up to set up the gaming consoles. “What do I feel? Dad, do you even need to ask?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY LOOK. RAPID FIRE TYPING AT ITS FINEST. I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO WRITE THIS DOWN. PRAISE
> 
> *clears throat* Yep. So, fifth interlude. It's kind of incredible that I managed to start typing this down this morning and had it finished on the early evening, since it usually takes me a whole lot longer to write. I mean, it helps that I've had a clear picture of what I wanted to write, but still. And I apologize if there was some grammar error, since I only did minimal editing.
> 
> This is officially the last chapter you'll get in a while, since I'll be going tomorrow at noon and will only be able to write again by late August or early September. Maybe.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one. See you in two months or so!


	11. 6th Interlude: Léa and Valentin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underlined dialogues are spoken in French.

The peaceful weekend started just like usual for the Hogwarts residents and their guests. Lazy chatters over breakfast, jokes while sipping on milk, pumpkin juice, tea, or other beverages, so on and so forth. There was a faint buzz of excitement over the fact that they would be able to leave for Hogsmeade – which was, of course, also usual.

The usual was shattered, though, with a simple question from a Beauxbatons girl:

“Hey, Max, will you go to Hogsmeade with me later?”

Further blow in the semblance of peace was dealt when the questioned boy casually answered,

“Sure, Léa.”

Any onlooker – and that meant _many_ onlookers – would notice how one Léa Durand casually pushed away the poor Slytherin boy sitting near in order to sit next to one Maxwell Puckett, and how they seemed to be comfortable with the close proximity. The two then proceeded to chat casually while eating, with Léa plucking mini croissants and small breakfast muffins from the Slytherin table and Max calmly handing her a glass of water when asked.

This was absolutely unnatural for the many Hogwarts residents. They knew for a fact that Max always, _always_ , went to Hogsmeade with his group, consisting of Isabel, Ed, Isaac, and sometimes Johnny, Ollie, Stephen, and RJ – or a combination thereof. Occasionally by himself, but never with anyone else.

This was also absolutely odd for Beauxbatons students. They knew that Léa always, without fail, went out of the school grounds with Valentin. Of course, usually there would be some more students with them, but once the group broke up in hogsmeade to visit the places they found most interesting, Léa would always stick with valentin. They were a pair, could even be considered a unit at times.

The change of behavior was not only unwelcome. For some, it was borderline _ominous_.

To one Valentin Blanchett in particular, it… well, to be honest it made his blood boil, and he wasn’t even sure why. Technically, Léa wasn’t even his girlfriend he never actually asked her, but ever since the incident at the lake, he already thought them to be dating anyway, and…

He sighed. He wasn’t sure he understood the threads of thoughts, even in his own head.

In any case, he was angry (maybe? He wasn’t even sure) that Léa decided to go with Max instead of with him, and honestly it was screwing with his thoughts process, and he didn’t like that. He took a deep breath.

When Léa finally went back to the table they usually shared, he asked, “You’re going with Puckett?”

Léa’s brow shot up. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

“No,” Valentin’s answer came a tad too quickly.

Léa threw him an amused look. ”It’s just one time,” she told him, a smirk playing at her lips. “This isn’t going to be a permanent thing.”

Valentin simply grunted in response.

That exchange wasn’t enough to alleviate the sudden, unexplained anxiety that hung about in his chest, so Valentin decided to tail the two Champions. He tried to be discreet about it, of course, but he couldn’t help a few Beauxbatons students noticing.

“Jealous, are we?” a friend teased.

“Shut up, Corentin,” Valentin shoved the boy’s smiling face away.

“Seriously, Valentin, you’re being so very subtle,” another friend, Aurore, joined in the teasing. She flicked her blonde bangs away from her face.

“Guys, I’m not – “ Valentin stopped. _Breathe_ , he thought. “Just shut up.”

He ignored his friends’ giggles behind his back and focused on following Léa and Max again. the two had entered Three Broomsticks, ordering butterbeers for themselves and some snacks, chatting. Valentin noted at how at ease the two seemed, how unconcerned of the stares they were getting from people around them. Their laughs seemed to trill above the buzz in the pub, even though their words drowned in it.

Valentin’s eyes narrowed at Max as he talked, apparently listing some things on his fingers with Léa listening raptly. He decided then and there that he didn’t like the black-clad Hogwarts champion, even though their previous interactions were neutrally positive.

He left the company of his friends when Léa and Max left Three Broomsticks, nodding to their calls of _good luck_ and _keep your head straight_. He kept a fair distance away from them, silently hoping that he wouldn’t be caught following, because the thought of trying to explain himself filled him with trepidation.

He nearly blew his own cover when Léa tripped over a rock, but he stopped himself when he saw Max swiftly caught and righted her, patting her as if to check for injuries. He grumbled something at her, and she laughed sheepishly. Valentin fumed silently as he watched the scene.

The two went inside Honeydukes, and Valentin followed. He sniffed at the sugary air of the shop, recognizing the smell of fruits and honey mixing into one in it. He wrinkled his nose. He was never a huge fan of candies. He held on, though, intent to keep following Léa and Max no matter what.

At this point, standing between rows of swirly lollipops and jars of singing gummi bears, he wondered to himself why he even wanted to know what Léa was doing with Max.then he caught sight of the two sampling a jellybean before stepping out of the shop, and he squashed the thought away, focusing instead on continuing to follow them.

They walked next into Gladrags Wizardwear, though the visit didn’t last long – a clerk showed them a pair of socks that screamed when they got too smelly, and the scream proved to be an excellent repellant of anything with ear, as the store emptied in under thirty seconds after the socks started screaming when the clerk did a demonstration.

He decided not to go into the next shop they went into, deciding that he’d probably look less suspicious if he didn’t visit every single shop that they visited. He waited outside and pretended to be waiting for a friend, all while keeping his eyes on the shop.

It was an accessory shop, aptly named _Charmed Strings_. He could see a collection of necklaces, bracelets, and other such goods on the display – a pair of earrings studded with red stones, a pair of ring-pendants clearly meant to be worn by a couple, a bracelet with tiny feathers. A worker took the pendants, replacing them with a pair of rings instead.

It was at this point that Valentin decided to walk closer, feeling his curiosity grow. What was those two doing? Their previous stops weren’t this long.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the shop, talking. This time, Valentin was close enough to hear them.

“So, you’ve got what you want,” Max exclaimed to Léa, putting his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Where do you want to go next? Zonko’s?”

“No, I’ve visited it before, and there isn’t anything I particularly want from there,” Léa answered. She seemed to be playing with something she got in her hands, but Valentin couldn’t see what it was from behind her.

“Should we go to Dominic Maestro’s?” Max offered. “You said you wanted to go to a music shop.”

Léa thought it over. “No,” she decided, “let’s go to Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. You said you need a new quill.”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s go there, then.”

Valentin hung back a little, letting himself get swallowed by the crow of students that seemed to be perpetual in each Hogsmeade visit. He knew where the two were going, so he felt safe to add more distance between them. He kept his eyes on them, though, just in case they decided to change their minds.

They didn’t. He pushed the door to Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop about five minutes after they entered, hoping the difference of time would pass as a coincidence if they noticed him. He prepared himself to give a smile and a cheerful hello if they did.

He was instead greeted with the sight of Max scrunching his nose with his eyes shut tight as if holding back a sneeze, his hand holding an all-black raven feather quill. Léa was in front of him, holding an eagle-feather quill, using it to tickle Max’s nose. There was a large, anticipatory grin on her face. Max turned his hand and swatted Léa’s hand away, speaking her name in exasperation, and she laughed aloud.

Alright, that was that. Valentin was putting an end on this.

“Léa.”

Both Max and Léa turned to him, their eyes wide in surprise – surprise that he was there, and surprise that anger was dripping off his voice like morning dew dripping off forest leaves. Truthfully, Valentin was just as surprised. How did he end up sounding so angry?

“Valentin,” Léa called back, blinking, somehow looking skittish. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He ignored her words and strode forward, taking her hand and pulling her close. “Come with me.”

“Ah… okay?”

“And you,” Valentin whirled to Max, whose only reaction was to blink twice in quick succession, “Stay away from her.”

Max frowned. “I’d like to clarify that I have no feelings for Léa.”

Valentin’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

“Yeah, for real.” Max held up a hand and made a cross in front of his heart. “No feelings for Léa. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“That’s good to know,” Valentin straightened up, squeezing Léa’s hand that he still held. “Good day, Puckett.”

He turned, pulling Léa a little, before heading out. Léa easily followed.

Inside, onlookers Valentin failed to realize were present stared at Max, who exhaled the long sigh and fiddled the raven feather quill.

Jeff, one of onlookers, called tentatively, “Max?”

“Yeah?” Max turned to him.

“He basically just kidnapped your pal,” he pointed out. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Max answered easily, shrugging.

“Really?”

“Yup,” Max popped the _p_ loudly. A lazy grin spread on his face. “All according to plan.”

* * *

 

Valentin wasn’t really thinking when he dragged Léa out of the small town. When he realized what he was doing, they were already at the lake. He released Léa’s hand, at last.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered.

“About the hand?” Léa climbed a nearby rock and sat atop of it. “It’s no problem.”

Valentin winced slightly. He knew Léa was a little angry, at the very least, from how chilly her voice sounded and how hard her gaze was. He took a deep breath. “Look, Léa… we need to talk.”

“Figured we should,” the coldness in her voice melted, just a little bit. ”What was that all about?”

Valentin’s face contorted into a scowl. “Truthfully, I was going to ask you the same.”

Léa stared. “Are you mad that I chose to go with Max instead of with you? I mean we were just…” Léa gestured with her hands, eyes wide in exasperation. “There’s nothing going on between us. Seriously, Val, are you _jealous_ of Max?”

Valentin winced, feeling heat rushing to his face. “What? I don’t – I never – well, okay, maybe!” He refused to meet Léa’s eyes. “It’s just, we were always together. You going with him feels like…” he found himself unable to continue.

“Is… is that why you were jealous?” Léa’s voice was small. “You thought I was leaving you?”

Embarrassment didn’t make Valentin feel good. In fact, it made him feel vulnerable and urged to dig a hole and hide there for the rest of his life, so he decided to focus on his anger. “Why did you go with Puckett, anyway? That… black-wearing kid. He’s… weird! He only wears black. Why black? I should make some changes to his wardrobe.”

“Valentin, that is rude,” Léa deadpanned. “And it wasn’t like we were having a date or anything.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

Léa’s eyes widened. “Wait. Were you following us?!”

“I – “ Valentin knew that his guilt showed in his face, but he went on anyway. “No?”

“Unbelievable,” Léa rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Look, we didn’t do anything – you saw it.” He winced at the verbal jab. “I asked Max to come with me because I wanted to ask him a favor.”

Indignation flared within him. “And I couldn’t have helped? Okay, Léa, we’ve been friends for years and never before have I felt – “ he stopped talking when Léa shoved a small box in front of his face. “What is this?”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Léa asked back, as if it was obvious.

Valentin just stared at the box with a barely audible _um_. He had completely forgotten.

“I wanted to make this a surprise, and taking you shopping for a present that will be yours is just downright awkward,” Léa shrugged. “So I thought I should ask someone for help. Max seemed like the perfect guy, so why not? And before you ask, I didn’t ask our schoolmates because they might blab. The people we hang around with don’t have the tightest lips.” She smiled. “And we thought to do something out of character, since we thought it would be hilarious. April first and all.”

Valentin didn’t say a thing. He kept his eyes on the small box while Léa was chattering away, hearing her but not fully listening. He jumped when Léa suddenly urged, “Open it.”

Valentin blinked once before complying. He pulled the dark blue ribbon off the pristine white box and tucked it into his pocket before opening the box. When he saw what was inside, he paused. He reached and took it out.

“Do you… like it?” Léa sounded nervous.

Valentin didn’t pay attention to her, though. His eyes zeroed on the metal band as he inspected it. “This is a ring,” he observed, thumbing its side. A single red stone adorned its side, and a chain was attached to the ring. It was obvious that it was meant to be worn as a necklace.

“Yeah, I thought it would suit you,” Léa explained. “Max is really good with metal. He assured me that it’s made from top quality materials. He was the one who pointed me to that, actually.”

“I suppose I should thank him, then… and apologize,” Valentin added meekly.

Léa snorted in amusement. “Yeah, you should.” She stared at the ring. “So… do you like it?”

Valentin’s thumb ran along the ring’s surface, feeling the red stone. A small smile appeared in his face. “Yes,” he finally said. “It’s perfect.”

Léa sighed in relief. “That’s good then,” she exclaimed, leaning forward with a sparkle in her eyes and a glint of metal and stone on her chest, and it didn’t take long for Valentin to realize that Léa was wearing his ring’s counterpart.

Valentin’s smile stretched even wider.

* * *

 

Across the lake, partly hidden by the bushes, were Max and Isaac. Both had binoculars glued to their eyes, watching the scene between Léa and Valentin unfold.

“This will be much more interesting if this thing had the sound on it,” Max commented.

“Let’s try experimenting with some spells later,” Isaac agreed.

“Look at that,” Max huffed. He pulled the binoculars away and looked at Isaac. “Looks like all those hours you waste watching anime are useful, after all.”

Isaac pulled his own binoculars away to look at Max. “Anime is never not useful, Max.” He offered his fist to the other boy. “I’d say that was a job well done.”

Max bumped his fists to Isaac’s. “Agreed.”

Both put the binoculars to use again and spied on Léa and Valentin until the two left the lakeside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I'm not good at writing romance? I am reiterating that.
> 
> This thing is basically me trying to get myself back in the Pnat Hogwarts mood after the long period of not writing... well, anything. (And on that note, hello again, long time no see!) It's fallen on a nice balance between a fanfic and an original work, so it managed to kick my rusting machine back to live.  
> Why did I end up writing Léa and Valentin, though, and in this kind of setting, at that? Who the heck knows, I'm still wondering about that even now.


	12. The Third Task

For most people, the day could count as a good day. The sun was shining, the clouds were sluggish, the birds were chirping; nice weather all around. And it was also the day the third task would be held, so the students at Hogwarts couldn’t help but feel excited.

Max, however, was not most people. He thought it was justified, though, since it could be the very day he would breathe his last. He realized that it was pretty dramatic of him, but he didn’t particularly care anymore.

He was currently trying to breathe while being squished by his family from either side – Dad from the left and Zoey from the right. Both were gripping at him tightly and tearfully.

“Be safe, Maaax…” Dad wailed.

“Don’t dieee,” Zoey added.

“We’ll miss youuu,” Dad continued.

“Sooo muuuch,” Zoey finished. Both then sobbed almost hysterically at Max’s shirt, and for a moment Max wondered who exactly was going to face a potentially hazardous game.

“Guys, please,” he sighed weakly, “at this point you’ll suffocate me to death before I get to the arena.”

That only sent the father and daughter crying louder, and Max was, for a moment, positive that they were doing this on purpose.

Professor Zarei, who had been standing by the side silently, finally ran out of her patience. She coughed, soft enough to be polite but loud enough to be noticed, and gave Dad a stiff smile. “I’m afraid we must be going, Mr. Puckett,” she explained. “The game will start soon, and Maxwell needs to be there.”

“Of course,” Dad answered easily, straightening up and nodding, showing no sign of the earlier tears. He engulfed Max in one last hug with Zoey joining before he finally let Max walk away.

“Stay alive, Maxie,” Zoey told him, hand grasping at his shirt before letting go.

Max rolled his eyes. “Not planning on dying, so don’t worry about that one,” he answered.

“Good, cause Mom will slap you for dying and kick you back into the living world if you dare to!” Zoey declared with a _humph_ , and despite the churning anxiety in his stomach, Max laughed.

“But seriously, Max, be safe,” Dad warned, and his eyes glinted seriously. The lack of goofy smile on his face made Max shudder – it wasn’t often that Dad was actually serious – but it drove the message deeper, and Max nodded. Dad squeezed his shoulder and smiled, and Max returned it, all while Zoey grinned at the sidelines, sending her own brand of encouragement.

Professor Zarei coughed again, louder this time. Max took that as his cue to go. Dad’s hand lingered on him until their distance made it impossible for skin contact, and the absence of his touch made Max felt alone.

“They’re very lively,” she commented as they walked away.

Max glanced at his family again, watching them being escorted away, most likely to go to the arena for the third task through a more scenic route that could boast the castle’s glory. “Yeah,” he agreed.

The potions professor glanced at him. “Don’t be so nervous. You’re safe in the arena.”

Max fidgeted. “I know.”

Her sharp eyes found his easily. “Max,” she called, and Max started at her use of his nickname. It was _Maxwell_ for her, or _Puckett_. Never _Max_. “I assure you, you’ll be alright. You’re a fine wizard, and we have designed so that the arena will be as safe as possible.”

He nodded and swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Right. Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Zarei offered him a surprisingly encouraging smile, and she put her hand on the center of Max’s back, and he felt himself breathing more easily when he noticed the warmth of her palm, though it was surprising because despite the fact that she also doubled as the school’s doctor, Professor Zarei was never exactly touchy-feely with anyone. It made him feel safer, supported, to feel the lingering warmth on his back when Professor Zarei withdrew her hand.

The rest of their walk was silent, but it was comfortable. Max filled the silence of the world around him with chatters of spells in his own mind as he reminded himself of as many spells he knew as possible – of how to pronounce them, of the wand movements necessary to pull the spell off.

Their path led them to the edge of the school ground. The stadium of the third arena was built near the dark forest, facing the woods. Max knew that there would be three man-made caves, each being the doors that would lead the Champions into the true arena.

He still remembered the night when he, Paskal, and Léa were shown the entrance.

“That doesn’t look very impressive,” Léa had commented, though she fidgeted uncomfortably at the earthen gaping mouths.

“Not right now,” Ministry Man, whose name Max finally learned after who knew how long – Jerry Garners – shrugged with a small smile on his lips. “We are still in the process of building this. But when it is finished, it’ll be the most complicated arena you’ll ever face.”

Max lifted a brow. “Three holes are complicated?”

“This is going to be either very simple of very tricky,” Paskal commented humorlessly.

As it turned out, it was the latter.

“We’re here,” Professor Zarei announced, and Max jerkily stopped. They were standing in a corridor built between the sets of seats of the stadium. Max knew that beyond the corridor, at the blinding light at the end of it, was the entrance to the arena. He gulped.

“Go out when your name is called,” Professor Zarei instructed. “Stay safe, Maxwell. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Max responded, but she was already gone.

He stood there silently, waiting, taking off his cap and playing with it. It was almost time, and Max couldn’t help but feel like he was a helpless sheep being herded into a slaughterhouse.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the commentator’s voice echoed in the corridor as the crowds began to cheer and scream. “Welcome to the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament!”

Max straightened himself, walking to the blinding light with more confidence than he actually felt.

“Here are our Champions; leading with a total score of sixty six points is Paskal Asenov of Durmstrang!”

The crowds went wild immediately, cheering and roaring and whistling. Max braced himself when the noise died down, knowing what exactly he would face once he was out of the corridor.

“On the second place, with a total score of sixty three points, is the Hogwarts champion, Maxwell Puckett!”

Max jammed his cap on his head and walked out into the sun. The cheers and screams were deafening. It almost felt like he was standing in front of a loudly roaring lion. He glanced at Paskal, who was wearing a smile and looking up the sets of seats where the Durmstrang students were sitting. Max turned and looked up, not surprised to see that the whole Hogwarts were seated right behind him and that Isabel, Isaac, Ed, Johnny, Ollie, Stephen, and RJ were at the very front, along with his family. He gave them a tentative wave and jumped in surprise when the entirety of the Hogwarts audience roared again.

“And last but not least, with sixty points in her pocket, is the prettiest of the three – Léa Durand, Champion of Beauxbatons!”

The same deafening cheer shook the arena again as Léa walked out of her corridor. She smiled and waved at the audience, looking completely at ease, though Max knew it was just a front. He could see her fingers trembling even from a distance.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to our arena for the third task,” the commentator’s voice boomed above the roaring cheer, and Max focused his attention at him. It didn’t take long for the audience to do the same. “As we all know, the Triwizard Tournament consists of three major challenges – three tasks. The first was to face a fire-breathing dragon. The second was to dive deep into a lake to retrieve loved ones. The third one,” the commentator gestured to the center of the arena, “will be held _underground_.”

Immediately, the three caves appeared, facing away from each other. Already knowing which cave was whose, Paskal, Max, and Léa walked to their respective caves and stood in front of the gaping earthen holes.

“We have prepared a network of underground tunnels below this area as well as the Dark Forest,” the commentator continued. “The tunnels will shift every ten minutes, though the first shift would not happen until the first twenty have come to pass.

“Now, the Champions will be the one who first got to the Tournament Cup. However, it will not be easy to reach the cup. It will be hidden, protected by spells and enchantments, and most importantly it will be locked inside a container of sorts. Now here’s the twist; to open this container, the Champions will be required to find its keys. Also hidden in the tunnels are seven keys, four of which are the required ones and three others are fakes. The Champions will be searching for these keys. _But_ , taking them from other Champions by force is also allowed, so prepare to duel, you guys. Oh, also, none of you will be able to locate the container until the four real keys are located. And there would also be challenges in there! We have prepared traps here and there as our surprise, so let’s hope our Champions will be able to handle them all.

“The Champions will be shown the way out if they could claim the cup – which, by the way, is by holding it by oneself for at least thirty seconds – but! This way out is also the last battlefield! Whoever is able to snatch the cup and get out of the tunnel with it in their person will be declared the winner of this task and will be given the most points, though the one that managed to claim the cup for the first time will also be rewarded well. Are you allowed to jinx your fellow Champion in order to get the cup? _Yes._ As long as it is not life-threatening, that is.

“As Asenov stands in the leads as of now, he will be granted a ten minutes head start. Puckett, in second place, will be given a five minutes head start. Durand, however, will have to face this challenge without this advantage.

“Well, then, Champions, are you ready?”

“To face my impeding death? No,” Max muttered under his breath.

“Well, if you are, then Paskal Asenov is welcome to enter the tunnels… now!”

As cheers rocked the stadium once more, Paskal threw Max and Léa once last glance before descending down the tunnels. Minutes passed, and Max was allowed to go into the tunnels, as well. Like Paskal before him, he threw Léa a glance, nodding slightly, before taking a deep breath and walking into the darkness.

The cave was made so that it sloped and led down right from the get-go. The light from the outside shone down the cave, hitting the ceiling and creating a dimly lit interior, but it didn’t last. A few minutes of descending down the tunnel, it was almost impossible for Max to see. He pulled out his wand and whispered, “ _Lumos._ ”

The tip of his wand lit up in a gentle light. All of a sudden, the cave walls began glowing as well. Max blinked in surprise and located a spot from which light spilled in between rows of other shining spots. There was a small, bluish crystal embedded in the earthen wall, providing him with the light he needed. It wasn’t as bright as a flashlight, but entire rows of it provided him with a dim interior, and that was good enough for him.

He wondered if the stones lighting was because they were responding to his spell. With a spike of curiosity, he whispered, “ _Nox_ ,” letting his wand lose its light. The stones kept glowing – if anything, the light grew brighter.

“Okay,” Max muttered to himself, gripping his wand still. There was no telling what he would find in here. He would have to be vigilant.

The tunnels went up and down, with lots of twists and turns and branching off here and there, most often, Max would have to choose between two paths, but sometimes the tunnel would branch into three or four paths at once. He knew instantly just how easy it would be to get lost, and immediately lamented the fact that the people who made the arena likely intended it to be so, considering that the tunnels would freaking _shift_ every _ten minutes_ , _who the heck would be able to stay not lost in here_.

True to the commentator’s words, he had found some traps on his way. A spell had somehow misplaced his mouth and nose, though apparently walking away from the place the spell was put fixed the problem on its own. Another somehow managed to put him in the bottom of a deep hole, making Max wonder briefly if he had been transported into a Pokémon anime and had somehow fallen for Team Rocket’s sneak attack – a levitation spell had helped him out of the hole, and it immediately looked as though the hole was never there in the first place.

So far the traps hadn’t been too dangerous, but remembering the first and second task made Max believe that he was just lucky for the time being. He _seriously_ hoped that his luck wouldn’t run out soon.

He was faced with another branching tunnel and pretty much unthinkingly taking the right turn when he saw a glimmer in the dark. This tunnel, for some reason, lacked the glowing crystals that lit up the other tunnels. He lit his own wand with _lumos_ , hoping that it would trigger the crystals to light up as well, but there was nothing.

His eyes fell on the glimmering thing in the dark. He gulped and stepped forward, bracing himself of what might happen.

The glimmer seemed to be far away, most likely at the end of the tunnel that was likely to be branching off again. He had already walked halfway there when he was suddenly made aware of the presence of a trunk that stood almost innocently at the center of the tunnel.

“Uh…” he stepped back from it, unsure of what to do with it. He steeled himself and flicked his wand at it, willing the trunk to open.

Immediately, a whirlwind danced in front of his eyes and he knew instantly that something he would really, _really_ dislike would happen.

_“Max…”_

His eyes widened as he recognized what the thing was, and he whipped his wand while yelling _“Riddikulus!”_ before the boggart could even form a mockery of what he remembered as his mother. A dissonant scream that couldn’t have been human sounded from the still forming whirlwind as it withdrew back into the trunk which Max immediately closed with a harsh slash of his wand.

“I won’t fall for that again,” he hissed at the trunk as he circled it, unwilling to be so close to the thing able to replicate anything any person feared. He walked away from it as fast as he could.

He reached the glimmering thing at the tunnel – this time not branching off to different tunnels, but instead a dead end. There, he found a small box, glittering in golden light that easily caught the eyes. He reached and took it off the ground, opening it. Inside was a silver key, its head adorned with a single blue stone, around it a swirling pattern resembling clouds, giving off its own gentle light. Max reached and took the key, grasping it in his hand. Immediately, rows of clear blue crystals flared up, lighting up the dark tunnel. Max shoved the key into his pocket.

And then, suddenly, the tunnel shook. Max lost his balance almost immediately, falling on his butt painfully. He groaned and grasped the tunnel’s wall, uselessly trying to hold on. The ground shifted under him as it sloped down, turning into some sort of a slide. Without anything to hold him, Max slid down the slope, screaming all the while, eyes wide with surprise and fear. He could see flashes of the network of tunnels, boxes and glimmers here and there.

Then he was thrown to the air for some reason, and he fell to the ground, managing to land kneeling somehow but losing his balance at the last minute and face-planting to the floor. He groaned as he pulled himself up, noting how the whole tunnel was dark and immediately prodded the crystals to glow with another _lumos_. He patted his pocket, feeling the key still safely tucked away in there, and dusted himself as he stood. His cap had fallen off during the sliding trip, and he couldn’t find it around the place he fell, so he supposed he had to say goodbye to it for now.

“So that’s what they mean with _shifting_ ,” Max grumbled under his breath. “At this rate, no one’s going to find anything.” He looked around with a sigh and decided to go looking for more keys, walking off to the forking tunnel at his left.

He had managed to get an identical key before the next shift, and had located another and was just about to deal with the traps he was sure would be there when another shift happened. He had also had to deal with several other traps, one of which involved long, dangling cloths that looked like bandages lunging for his throat. He managed to escape it unscathed somehow, but he would _not_ be looking at bandages the same way ever again. But at the end of the tunnel where the bloodthirsty bandages hung, he found another key, so he felt that it wasn’t too bad.

This key was different, though. It was silver, like the other two he had safely tucked into his pocket, but with a green stone and leaf-like patterns around it. He wondered which model was the real key, or if there were several other designs meant to confuse the Champions. Deciding to deal with it later, he stuffed the new key into his pocket too before going off to search for more.

Three shifts later, he had been left with several scratch marks, bruises in various places of his body, a tear of his shirt at his shoulder, and no more keys to speak of. He had begun to wonder how _any_ of the Champions would be able to get to the surface again when he heard a crunch from his right.

He was on defense immediately, holding out his wand like a weapon as his eyes searched. He stepped back a bit, hoping that some distance could add more ground to fight on, considering that a magical duel would be more advantageous with a bigger place.

And then, around the corner, Paskal turned and met Max’s eyes. Both sets of eyes widened, and suddenly Paskal’s hand jabbed forward, whirling a spell at Max’s face. Already in high alert, Max quickly casted a shield to protect himself. The spell bounced off the magical shield and hit the ceiling, causing dirt and rocks to rain down on them.

All of a sudden, black, long root whipped down from above, hitting Max’s shield and shattering it at once. The impact sent him tumbling to the ground as Paskal dropped to his stomach to avoid being hit. As quickly as it came, the root slithered up and hid in the earthen ceiling once more.

Both boys stayed in their places on the ground for a moment, staring at the hole from which the root had whipped out, Paskal still on his stomach and Max curled up on his side.

When they were sure the root wouldn’t attack again, both breathed in relief.

“Are you okay?” Paskal asked as he pushed himself up, walking to Max and offered him a hand.

“Fine,” Max answered, voice a little strained. He coughed a bit and took Paskal’s hand, grateful for the help. As he dusted himself, he made sure that the keys were still safe in his pocket, and was pleased to find them tucked in there.

“Sorry about that spell,” Paskal sighed. “I was… nervous. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, no harm done,” Max replied. “Except for that tree,” he added as he looked up. “I wonder if the trees in Dark Forest are partly sentient, at the very least?”

Silence hung between them for a bit before Paskal broke it. “Listen, Max…”

Max turned to him, frowning at the nervousness in his voice. “Yeah?”

“Between us three, who do you think is the most aggressive combatant?”

Max didn’t have to think to know who _us three_ was, or who Paskal was referring to. “Léa, of course. Her approach with the dragon in the first task was indicative enough.”

“Do you think you can take her down in a duel?”

“Absolutely not,” Max’s answer came without missing a beat. Léa was faster to cast her spells and would relentlessly pursue him. His tendency to choose flight over fight wouldn’t really help matters, either.

“Me neither,” Paskal muttered. He bit his lip, put his hand on his chin, and seemingly came to a decision. “Max, what do you say if we _both_ fight her?”

Max stared at him, mouth hanging open a bit.

“Neither of us has a chance of beating her when it comes to a duel – a one-on-one duel, that is,” Paskal launched into an explanation at once. “I’ve seen her when she practices dueling with her schoolmates. She’s fast, she can aim decently enough, and she knows a lot of spells, some are really obscure that they could even be self-made – though _who_ made them is another question entirely. She’s usually really focused, and I’m certain that if she’s in her top form, she might even be able to use non-verbal spells.”

“She’s pretty reckless, though, isn’t she?” Max debated instantly. “She gets overconfident and makes mistakes. Wasn’t that how she got that egg crushed?”

“That’s true, but would you rather risk being a victim to her spells?” Paskal shot back immediately.

Max opened his mouth to retort, but sighed in the end. “No,” he admitted. He glanced at Paskal. “So your plan is for us to, what, ambush her? Take her keys?”

Paskal shrugged. “More or less. Basically we’ll have to take her down together, or she’ll take us both.”

_And later we’ll fight each other, when she’s out of the picture,_ was what left unsaid.

Max took a deep breath, thought it over, and nodded. “Okay.”

Paskal looked relieved at this. “Okay.”

“Should we just stick together for now, then?” Max asked.

“That sounds good. Which way?”

“Whichever.” Max nodded and followed when Paskal pointed him a direction. “You know… I wouldn’t have pegged you for the cunning type.”

“I don’t really consider it cunning,” Paskal argued immediately. “I’m just… ensuring my survival. By the way, have you gotten any keys?”

Max hummed, not really giving an answer. He was reluctant to; he had seen how Paskal had looked him over searchingly before. “You?”

“I think it’s hard not to wander in this maze for this long and not finding any.”

“Unless your luck’s rotten like crazy.”

“Well, yes.”

They walked through the tunnels, easily handling traps that were littered here and there along their path. Silence hung between them, draping heavily and tensely, as if charged with electricity. It didn’t matter that they were in a temporary alliance. They didn’t trust each other, not now, not in this setting.

The ground began to shake again and their eyes immediately met.

“Hold my hand,” Paskal said immediately.

Max quickly complied. He had no reason to abandon Paskal’s help, even with the tension between them.

Once more, the ground rumbled and turned into a slide beneath their feet, and they slid down the path, desperately clinging to each other’s hands so not to get separated. When the ground finally settled, they let go, with Paskal immediately turning over with a sigh before standing up and Max groaning as he pressed his forehead to the cave floor before rising.

“Can we not go through that again?” Max growled, totally exhausted of having to deal with the shifts.

“Maybe if we can find the container,” Paskal answered, shrugging.

“Great, how hard can it be?” Max quipped, immediately and sarcastically.

They ventured through the tunnels once more, and surprisingly managed to find another glimmer in the dark not even three minutes after they started walking – and with a surprised gape, they realized the glimmer was shining around a box-like thing, most probably the container. At the same time, however, they also came face to face with Léa, which made all three froze for a total of a second before Léa sprang into action, which quickly triggered both Max and Paskal to take the defensives.

“Are you two ganging up on me?” Léa asked in incredulous realization after the three-way duel started.

“We see no reason not to,” was all Max said before he threw on a protection spell. He didn’t bother extending it to Paskal, though, as the older Champion had already casted the spell earlier and didn’t include Max within its protective area.

“Shame on you, to gang up on a lady,” Léa grumbled. Her wand sliced the air as she yelled another spell, which hit Max’s shield and dispersed in colorful sparks, followed by another, and another, and another.

Max dug his heels into the ground, mentally focusing on the magical shield he had casted, hoping to strengthen it enough before Léa’s barrage could damage it the way the tree root had earlier. But it turned out he didn’t need to – Léa’s attacks were barely strong enough to shake the shield.

Barely even concentrating on the shield, now, Max stared at Léa. “Are you making up for quality with quantity?”

“It’s a good enough strategy,” Léa answered, not even bothering to lie, before swiping her wand with a cry of _reducto_. To Max’s surprise, this time it did deal its damage, shattering Max’s shield and sending him tumbling to the ground again. He quickly casted another to replace the shattered spell as he rolled and got to his feet.

Even though she fought, however, in the end both Max and Paskal hurling spells at her got Léa overwhelmed. After a while, Paskal’s spell connected, and Léa’s wand clattered to the ground as she was thrown to the wall with a shriek. She rubbed her back in pain, groaning.

“Keys,” Max demanded immediately, not bothering to spare her the time to collect herself.

“No,” she replied stubbornly.

Max sighed. “Look, you’re unarmed while Paskal and I are. You’re not in the place for making demands. Either you give me the keys now, or we’ll cast an immobility spell and search you ourselves.”

Léa growled angrily, shoved her hands into her pocket, pulled out her keys, and gave them to Max.

“Paskal, yours?” Max asked.

Paskal nodded and took out his keys. Max held Léa’s in his hands still while reaching into his pocket to take his own. He held out the three keys he had found. Paskal thrusted out two. Léa, like Paskal, also had two.

The three stared at the keys, trying to determine which ones were the true keys. Two of Max’s keys were silver with blue stone, one of Paskal’s was the same, and one of Léa’s keys was the identical silver with blue. The guys exchanged looks before pocketing the keys with green stones, knowing immediately that those were the decoys.  Max gave Léa’s green-adorned key, and she too shoved it into her pocket.

“Okay, so…” Paskal’s eyes met Max ‘s, clearly inquiring.

“We open the container,” Max said simply, already eying the container, not realizing when Léa reached for her wand and gripped it tight, slowly inching to the remaining Champions with slight wariness in her eyes.

Surprisingly, there were no traps around the container. Obviously, the designers of the tunnels were convinced that the Champions would duel it out to get to the cup. _Well, they’re not wrong,_ Max thought, remembering the brief duel they had fought in earlier. The three soon found the container – a chest of sorts, with four keyholes on each side and intricate cloud-like swirls covering the visible wood. They surrounded the chest and knelt, each holding their own keys in their hands.

Without thinking too much of it, Max held out one of his keys close to a keyhole. It was suddenly wrenched from his hand as it plunged itself into the keyhole, fitting snugly. His brow lifted in bewilderment, and he held out the other, and the process repeated itself. Léa and Paskal exchanged looks before Paskal did the same, and afterwards Max put Léa’s key into the hole as well. Léa flinched back when her key lodged itself into the chest, as if anticipating an explosion. Paskal tensed, but otherwise showed no sign of distress.

Nothing happened for a moment after they keys were in. Then, simultaneously, all four keys turned with a harmonious, if somewhat menacing, click. The top part of the chest then shot up to the ceiling like a rocket before whizzing back down, harmlessly bouncing off the tunnel wall before clattering to the ground. The three Champions then peered into the now open chest.

There it was, the cup, sitting innocently within the protective walls of the chest, giving away its own gentle glow that looked similar to the crystals’ in the tunnels. The Champions stared at the cup for a moment before their eyes glanced at each other in the same time, and all of a sudden they found themselves sitting rigidly, wondering what would happen next.

Then Léa’s hand shot like lightning to the box, reaching for the cup, and Paskal followed just a split-second too late. Léa’s hands already found their place on the cup, holding it for dear life, as she threw a spell that sent Paskal tumbling. Max didn’t bother, remembering that they would have enough time to snatch the cup back when they were shown the way out. Seeing this, Paskal frowned, before realization kicked in. He suddenly looked like he wanted to kick himself in the face.

The entire tunnel rumbled loudly, and the three Champions braced themselves, knowing a shift would happen soon and they would most likely end up being thrown around again. As it turned out, they didn’t have to. The ground beneath their feet stayed still, and they were treated to the spectacle of the tunnels shifting about. The earthen walls grated with each other, creating a thundering growl as they moved into place, surprisingly quickly despite the friction they had. The glimmering lights blitzed around in flashes of blue-white. They saw glimpses of the traps, easily distinguishable between the moving earth, when the flashing lights allowed them to. Only then did it occur to Max just how grand the whole arena was, how much work it would have taken to create it. For some inexplicable reason, his mind suddenly jumped to the question of _I wonder how much money it took to make all of this_.

The rumble stopped, all of a sudden. The whole place was still. Behind them, a wall had formed, and ahead of them they could see a tiny light at the end of a long tunnel. For exactly one second, no one moved.

Léa broke the stillness with a sudden sprint ahead.

The remaining two Champions were on the move at once, springing to their feet and running to match Léa’s steps in an attempt to snatch the cup away. They shared a glance and worked in tandem, seeking to overpower the surprisingly springy witch fleeing from them. Both whirled spells at her, and she managed to dodge and dispel the first two before the third hit her in the shoulder. She cried in pain, grip on the cup loosening. Paskal snatched it immediately.

He didn’t hold it long, because Max quickly hit him with another spell – petrification spell. He easily pried the cup away and rushed to the exit.

He soon tripped and fell face-first to the dirt when Léa’s spell hit him in the calf. The cup slipped from his fingers and clanged to the ground. He groaned in pain as the other two Champions approached, Léa apparently having freed Paskal from the spell Max had casted on him. The closer they got, the faster their stride, so Max ignored the pain from the fall and shot forward to get the cup.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Two of the same spell hit him, and his wand was flung away from his hand while he skidded back a few steps, barely managing to keep his balance. He looked up to see Léa glaring at him and Paskal holding his wand.

“I don’t think two against one wandless person is fair,” Max commented warily, eying both Champions as he felt nervousness slowly settle in his stomach.

“Neither is two against one with wand,” Léa directed her glare to Paskal briefly before her eyes set on Max once more.

“Or using a petrification spell,” cold ice frosted over Paskal’s voice.

“This _is_ meant to be the final battleground,” Max shrugged. “There’s no way I’d be able to win against you two.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in winning,” Léa’s eyes narrowed on him.

“I’m not,” Max confirmed. “But since I’m here anyway, might just as well.”

Léa blinked. “You know, that’s both annoying and commendable, but can you perhaps stop inching to the cup like that? It’s pitifully obvious.”

Max winced. “Can’t help it. I’m wandless, see? It’ll be nice if you can give it back, by the way,” he glanced to Paskal.

The older boy just shrugged. “Maybe later.” He glanced at Léa. “There are some things I need to do first.”

Léa’s head turned to him, fast as lightning, just in time to cast a shielding spell when Paskal’s attack manifested in the air. The spell hit the shield and shot upwards, hitting the earth with vengeance, resulting in a cloud of dust that quickly spread.

Immediately, chaos reigned. Wands were whipped, spells were sent, colliding with one another and hitting walls and ceiling of the cave.  Pebbles, dirt, and dust fell like rainfall, and there was only so much Max could do without his own wand. Through it all, he could see that Léa was gaining the upper hand, her barrage of spells slowly but surely overpowering Paskal’s defense.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the roots started to slither out like snakes and lashed around in a rampage. Max quickly rolled and ducked around to avoid collision, but Léa and Paskal weren’t as lucky. The roots got them both, sending them falling down like bowling pins, with all three wands clattering on the ground pitifully. Max quickly shot to his feet, diving to take his wand. His hand circled around the piece of wood and he quickly felt warmth and wholeness pumping through his veins, the sensation of thrumming power beneath his skin sending comfort and relief to his whole being.

“Watch out!”

The warning cry snapped him back to reality, and he managed to jump away from a whipping root just in time. The roots were still rampaging, and Max honestly couldn’t tell if this was some kind of extra challenge from the tournament itself or if it was something thoroughly unplanned, which meant they were thoroughly screwed.

“We have to get out,” Max shouted above the fray, looking out for rampaging roots out of blood – which was a good thing to do because yet another made a whip to his face. He ran to the cup, attempting to get it and bolt out of the place, but was stopped when a spell shot to him, missing him by an inch.

“I’m not letting you take it,” Léa hissed.

“Dude, I’m just getting it so that the whole thing could be finished!” Max protested. “You want it? Then sure, go and take it, but we need to scram like _now_.”

“Don’t be too hasty,” Paskal sighed. “I’m sure this is just another thing the committees prepared for us.”

“I agree,” Léa’s eyes narrowed, and she jabbed her wand. “ _Accio_!” The cup sailed straight through the air and into her waiting hand. She blinked in surprise, most likely not expecting that the summoning spell could work on the cup.

Without giving her the time to react, Paskal sent a spell her way. The cup was soon yanked from her hand, hitting the earthen wall loudly and fell to the ground with a clang. Paskal went to get it, but Léa shouted a spell in retaliation, and Paskal had just enough time to manifest a shielding spell before Léa’s spell hit the protective barrier and whizzed up to the ceiling.

Immediately, the whole cave shuddered as _something_ gave a roar that felt – Max wasn’t sure. Indignant? Furious? He didn’t know if he wanted to know. The roots stood in place for a moment, shuddering as the roar echoed through the tunnel, before they lashed in renewed vigor, out for blood.

The earthen ceiling began to crack.

Max looked around as his stomach churned with warning, dodging roots every few seconds and using _protego_ all the while, renewing the spell every now and then whenever the roots managed to shatter the spell. He screamed at Paskal and Léa, who were still fighting over the cup, but his effort was in vain. Max considered taking the cup by himself and made a run for it, but decided that it wasn’t worth the barrage of spells that would likely be sent to his ass. Instead, he concentrated and yelled, “ _Protego_!”

The spell quickly created a shield between the three of them. Both Paskal and Léa turned to him, rearing for a fight, but he shot them a silent snarl. “ _We. Need. To. Go.”_

“We still need to get the cup,” Léa pointed out.

As if reacting to her words, the ceiling cracked some more and gave out. A boulder as big as a table came crashing down, shattering Max’s spell in one hit and headed straight to the ground, where the trinket they had been fighting over laid in waiting. It hit the cup with ease, and the cup immediately broke into tiny pieces, each glittering like stardust in the dark of the night before losing its shine.

All three Champions froze for a second before simultaneously looking up. The tunnel gave an ominous moan before another boulder, smaller this time, fell and landed on the ground with a thud, sending powerful tremor.

“Run,” Paskal breathed.

Max didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and bolted. He could hear panicked footsteps behind him, along with the whipping roots and the falling boulders.

The roots chased them, reaching and whipping dangerously. Many times, Max had to jump back or aside, dodging a root by a hair’s breadth. However, it wasn’t rare that he had to take a hit or two, either.

He risked a moment to look back to check on his companions, only to see a large root suddenly whipping down from a side. Without even sparing a moment to think, his body moved, lunging towards the other two Champions. He managed to push them away from the root, but he was caught in the motion. When he realized what he was doing, he was already thrown to the wall, feeling its unforgiving impact on his side. Further insult to his stupidly heroic deed was thrown when another rock as big as a pillow fell and landed on his left arm.

He cried in pain as he crumpled to the ground. He could hear both Léa and Paskal calling him in alarmed worry, but the voices was drowned by the commotion around them and the ringing, burning pain that coursed through his whole body like liquid fire, focusing on his arm in a gnawing, torturing grip. He waved them away, knowing that staying still was a bad idea, as he pushed the offending rock on his arm away, grunting in pain. He tried to walk ahead and catch up with the other two.

He couldn’t. The tunnel’s ceiling gave out.

* * *

 

There was a loud rumble from the tunnels, and a cloud of dust puffed out the one opening meant to be the way out for the Champions.

Mina was on alert at once. This didn’t look good.

“Is there anything wrong, Professor?” Mr. Puckett inquired. Despite his childishness, he was very perceptive and could easily pick up any sign of discomfort from her tightly controlled aloofness.

“I can’t say just yet,” she answered. From the edge of her sight, she could see Mr. Puckett and young Zoey exchanged a worried glance.

There was another rumble, louder this time. It sounded like muffled explosion from a location far, far away, and Mina felt her heart clench with worry. She helped designing the underground maze. There was no trap that could cause such destruction, and the Champions shouldn’t be able to use such destructive spells.

Maybe she was just overthinking. She had that tendency, to be honest. It was probably fine.

Her attempt to keep herself calm was soon crushed when she saw a portion of the Dark Forest’s edge, easily an area used in the maze, caved in.

Mina could feel her face draining of all colors. She took a step forward, eyes wide with horror of what might be happening to the three students, when she felt a hand grasping hers. She turned to see Professor Day by her side, face painted in confusion. She pursed her lips instantly when she felt butterflies in her stomach. _Not now, Mina, focus on the children._

“What’s going on?” asked the blind professor.

Mina forced herself to calm down, taking a deep breath to quell the butterflies. “The tunnels caved in.”

“It what?!” Mr. Puckett sprung forward all of a sudden. “But what about Max? And the other two Champions?”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I don’t know yet,” Mina answered grimly. “Please stay here. I’ll go to check.”

“I’m going with you,” Day responded immediately.

Mina nodded, then realized Day wouldn’t be able to see her. “Alright,” she said instead.

“We’re going too,” Mr. Puckett interjected.

“Sir, please, stay here,” Mina began, but she didn’t get to launch her explanation.

“No,” Mr. Puckett refused immediately. “We’ll stay close and we’ll do as asked, but let us come with you.”

“It will be dangerous. It’s better for you to stay here.”

“Our family is in there,” this time, it was Zoey who interjected. “We can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“… fine,” she sighed in the end. “Stay close to me.”

They were just about to walk to the caved area, but they stopped when two figures stumbled out from the opening. Mina’s heart sank when she saw that Max was nowhere to be found.

The two foreign Champions looked around, looking panicked and disoriented. Their eyes found her, and they marched to her in hurried steps.

“Please – please help,” Durand gasped. Her dark hair was unkempt, tied tightly with a band but jutting out to all directions. Dust and dirt covered her face, and Mina saw the forming bruises on her skin. “Max is – Max…!”

Asenov cut in immediately. “Something happened when we were dueling in the tunnel,” he explained urgently. “The spells we deflected hit the tunnel’s ceiling, and roots started to appear and whip around. After that, the tunnel began to collapse. Max tried to save us, and he’s still trapped in there. Please help.”

Mina could feel her face draining of all colors. She glanced to Day in alarm, who held the same tense expression in her own visage. The trees were angry. The creation of the underground maze forced the roots to be shifted along. It was more than just a little likely that there were some semi-sentient tree like the Whomping Willow in the Dark Forest, and they likely tried to get back to the unknowing Champions.

“What do you mean,” Mr. Puckett said from behind Mina, “that Max is still trapped in there?”

“Just that,” Durand shook her head in distress. “He pushed us away so we didn’t get hit by a root. He got hit instead. The tunnel collapsed and we got separated.”

“Are you telling me that my son is…” Mr. Puckett swallowed, his voice tightening, “… buried alive?”

Zoey whimpered. Tears were gathering at the corner of her eyes.

Mina wracked her brain for a solution. They needed to dig out the tunnel, that was for sure. They had to get Maxwell out somehow. There was still a chance that he survived, after all, and she didn’t want to waste that good chance.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she saw a group of people coming. Walker, Spender, and Boss Leader walked in front – floated, in Boss Leader’s case – while there was that strangely mismatched yet fitting group Maxwell hung around with in trailing behind them.

At the sight of her, Guerra shot like a blurry comet, demanding to know what was happening. Her face was pale with concern, and Mina let Asenov repeat his story for the bigger audience while she stared at the mouth of the tunnel with tense worry. Sure, they could start digging the dirt out, but…

“We need to get him out, then!” Jhonny yelled as soon as he learned that Maxwell was still trapped inside. He took out his wand and turned to the tunnel with determination, but Walker stopped him.

“The tunnel is still unstable,” Walker explained. “It would be dangerous to recklessly dig now. the whole structure could collapse.”

“We need a way to bring him out without disturbing the scene,” Spender added. “Unfortunately, that may be a little challenging.”

“But there is a way?” Zoey cut in immediately. Mina stared at the young girl’s eyes, and her heart clenched when she saw the desperate hope in her eyes.

“Oh, there is,” Boss Leader turned to the area that caved in. “I happen to be good with levitation spells. Perhaps we can start lifting the rocks instead of digging in and – “

There was a sudden explosion that cut her sentence. The whole group flinched at it, but Boss Leader merely turned to the direction of the sound. Her finger twitched.

There was another explosion. Boss Leader snapped her head towards it, and suddenly she was already zooming past the group. They quickly followed. They soon got to the place where the area of the Dark Forest caved in.

Mina fingered the wand she kept under her robe when she saw a specific point in the area kept spouting clouds of dust, already fearing the worst. There was no guarantee what would suddenly leap out to them. There were some magical creatures in the midst of the traps they prepared, and even though they were mostly harmless creatures, they could be frightened to the point of threatening.

They kept at what they deemed to be a safe distance from the caved in area. Boss Leader lifted her wand, but before she could do anything another boom sounded, accompanied by a tremor this time, and another cloud of smoke puffed out.

And then, like a Muggle horror movie Mina once was dragged by Spender to watch with as a kid, a hand shot up from the dirt, prompting startled yells from the group. It was soon followed by a head and a torso.

“Max!” Zoey cried in relief. She seemed to be fighting the urge to throw herself to her brother.

“But you were – how’d you get out?” Durand stammered in shock.

Maxwell looked up to see them, grunted, and dragged himself out. “Continuous alteration between _protego_ and _reducto_.” His voice was strained with effort, and a hint of tears glistened at the edge of his eyes. He practically crawled away from the hole, and soon Jhonny and Oop were helping him up.

“Are you alright?” Mr. Puckett immediately shot to him, holding his shoulders. “Were you hurt?”

“Arm’s hurt,” Maxwell muttered. Mina didn’t like how pale he looked. “Head hurt too, got hit earlier. But yeah, I’m cool.” He contradicted himself immediately, with knees buckling.

“You’re not _cool_ ,” O’Connor hissed from behind Mr. Puckett. “You look like a mess.”

“Oh gee, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware,” Maxwell glared. “I should’ve known almost being buried alive should make me look like I’ve spent a whole day in a spa getting massage and having the time of my life relaxing away. Perhaps I should spend a little more time in there. Excuse me while I plunge back into the crumbling tunnel and leave myself for dead.”

O’Connor winced. “I didn’t mean that.”

Maxwell didn’t reply. His breath came in quick, shallow wheezes. “Dad?” he called weakly, his voice above a whisper, as he pressed his hand – still clutching his wand quite desperately – to his mouth.

“What is it?” Mr. Puckett asked.

“I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“I’m sorry, wha – _whoa_.” Mr. Puckett immediately held Maxwell up so he didn’t crash to the ground. The wand the Hogwarts Champion had been holding fell as his grip loosed and clattered to the earth. Oop pidked it up immediately.

“Is – is he dying?” Burger’s face was drained of all colors.

“Oh no,” Guerra squeaked in horror. “We made a bet to put in our names. Now he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead,” Mina interjected quickly, but the group was already panicking.

“We made a bet and he’s dead,” Isaac repeated, the same horror in his eyes.

“ _We killed him_ ,” RJ concluded.

“Students, he’s not dead,” Spender was the one who interjected this time, thank his quick response. “He’s only fainted. Maybe we should bring him to the infirmary?” Mina could feel his gaze on her even though the sunglasses obscured his eyes.

“The temporary one set up for the tournament would suffice for now,” Mina responded. She took a quick glance at Maxwell as Oop picked him up. She didn’t like how his left arm was bent in a place that wasn’t supposed to bend and how ugly bruises were already forming. “Treat him gently. We should go fast, but if the trip was too rough – “

“You heard her, guys!” Guerra cut in before she was finished. “Move! Move! Move!” The group of students carrying Maxwell was gone before she could do anything.

“Wait, come back!” she tried to call anyway, even knowing how fruitless it would be. She huffed in annoyance and settled to jog along, even as Mr. Puckett and Zoey whizzed past her in a desperate run to keep their eyes on Maxwell.

“They’re only concerned,” Spender defended.

“I know,” Mina huffed in exasperation. “Maxwell sure keeps some interesting company.”

Spender laughed mirthlessly. Mina copied the act as she took out her wand and curled her fingers around it. A taxing job was likely to be ahead of her, and she didn’t like to go unprepared.

Ah, well. The things she’d do for her students…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stare at word count* um what.
> 
> Anyway sorry that this one took so long. The length is one of the reason, and uni is another. So many assignments to finish! So many things to do! Not to mention lowkey adulting. How do you adult??  
> (And I can't feel all that comfortable with my roommate, unfortunately. Idk she's the type of person who I can't exactly hate but won't really be friends with either.)  
> I don't feel wholly good with this one, but I've rewritten it a few times already. I don't think it'll get any better. On the upside I managed to cram every little bit I wanted to put in so that's good I guess?  
> And, oh, oh! I'm planning to write an epilogue for this. It won't be uploaded anytime soon, though, since midterms is practically looming above me. But it shouldn't take as long as this? I think?  
> Well, I hope you enjoyed this. Have a great day!


	13. Epilogue: The Goblet's Champions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'll let you know that this was written in sleep-deprived state in a weekend that somehow got stuck between two weeks of midterms, with minimal editing. I needed to write because midterms is taking its toll on me. Also, this is past 1 A.M. I apologize in advance.

_“Max? Why Max?! Why not Cody, or Violet, or – “_

_“Would you stop it already?! He’s chosen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”_

_“You know, guys, I think the goblet didn’t really choose someone out of worthiness. Maybe it’s like those Muggle lottery where someone’s just randomly picked…”_

_There was a groan. “That means I’ve got a really shitty luck and I’m gonna die soon.”_

* * *

 

She didn’t know how, but somehow, Léa always ended up sitting by the lake whenever she wanted some alone time. Max had showed it to her and Paskal some time ago, when the whole castle was still bombarding them with their excitement over the Triwizard Tournament when they first got chosen as the Champions.

It was a quiet corner, where a big branch of tree leaned over the lake water, its leaves touching the surface ever so slightly. If she wanted to, Léa could sit on the branch and dip her toes in the water. It was calming. Naturally, she chose to dip a little.

Paskal was with her as well, though he preferred to stay away from the water. Instead, he took some flat stones and threw them to the water, watching them as they bounced off the surface like little fairies running swiftly before plunging down to the deep. They stayed in comfortable silence, enjoying the company and the faint buzz of their own thoughts.

The rustle of the leaves caught their attention, and they turned. Their lips pulled into a welcoming smile when they saw Max walking to them, arm in cast.

“Is your arm still broken?” Léa asked curiously. “Didn’t Professor Zarei fix it?”

“She did,” Max gestured to the sling. “This is only here to make sure I don’t use it too much. She’d rather let it rest so it could mend itself fully.” He sat on the base of the branch Léa had climbed to dip her feet into the water, then he snorted loudly. “I still can’t believe _that_ happened.”

Léa burst out laughing, doubling over and nearly falling into water. She caught herself in the last moment and crawled over to the shore, where she would be safe from threat of plunging over, and rested her head on Max’s shoulder as giggles spilled over her lips. Max, himself, wore a large, somewhat disbelieving grin, chuckles escaping every now and then. Paskal had long since tripped as he threw another stone – it crashed into the water with undignified splash, unlike its gracefully leaping siblings – and he, himself, was wheezing as he laughed himself silly.

“We’re _hiding_ from the others because of what we decided, Max,” Paskal said at last when he had gathered enough breath to speak. His face was beet red with laughter, and his eyes twinkled under the shine of the sun. “You’d better believe it.”

“I mean yeah,” Max giggled – _giggled_ , he would have been mortified had he not been so preoccupied by the utter _glee_ he felt, “but still!”

Fresh bout of laughter swept them as they remembered the events that transpired only a day ago. As soon as Max regained consciousness and had his arm fixed, the Champions were ushered back to the arena. Explanation over the disaster that was the tunnels were given to the audience, along with the changes over how they would see who won the third task.

“Because the cup was shattered, we can’t decide who’s the winner by telling who claimed the cup last,” the commentator explained. “Instead, we will decide by telling who claimed it _first_.”

Léa’s head snapped up. “Um, what?”

“Therefore, the winner of the third task is Léa Durand!”

Léa’s mouth fell into a gape.

“And so, Léa Durand’s score is – “

“Hold… hold on! Wait a minute!”

The commentator stopped speaking at once, staring at Léa in surprise. Never before had anyone interrupted him while speaking for an audience. “Um… yes?”

“It’s not right that I win!” she protested. “Max practically saved our lives in there. I got beat up when they formed a truce. Didn’t you monitor that?”

“Well – that’s – “

“Maybe we can just use the accumulated scores from the start instead,” Max chimed in. “Third task is a fluke because the whole structure collapsed, but the previous tasks are okay. So Paskal should be the winner.”

“What? No.” Paskal wrinkled his nose at him. “If anything, it should be you. Spellpower-wise, you’re the best of us three. The spells you make are _intense_. Remember that _lumos_?”

“What are you saying? You two know more spells than me.”

“Uuuh.” The poor commentator looked utterly at loss.

“We’re pretty much at the same level, now that you think about it,” Léa piped up. “Paskal’s got the most knowledge, and by Merlin he’s got the coolest head of us all. Max doesn’t know a lot of spells but ones that he knows of are really strong when he puts his mind to it – not to mention he’s the most physically fit. I’m… well, I get by from having knowledge over spells and firing lots of them…”

“You have a lot of firepower, Léa. Quantity can top quality when the amount’s staggering, and you got enough to pretty much bring your opponent to keel.”

“ _Thank you_ , Paskal.”

“When we have a three-way duel that don’t involve someone being ganged up, I think it could last really long, you know?” Max added. “And really, these tasks have a lot of luck factor too. Can’t really tell who’s the best that way.”

“Oh, what about we have one right now then?”

“You want to duel a guy whose arm is injured? Wow, Léa, I’m gonna be beaten in like five seconds, and I’m gonna be _so_ flattered by the totally fair fight.”

Paskal threw them a look that somehow made him look like a responsible dad (not that Max’d know) and sternly told them, “No dueling while injured, both of you.”

“I’m not injured!” Léa protested.

“I got thrown around by roots and hit by rocks too, Léa, I know there are a lot of cuts and bruises on us both,” Paskal scoffed.

“Um, so, the winner of the third task…” the commentator cut in, trying to regain a semblance of control over the situation despite the lost look in his face.

“Does that matter?” Max asked. “We refuse the title.”

The commentator faltered. The faint buzz in the audience that accompanied their bickering fell into a hush.

“I’m sorry?” the commentator finally asked when he found his voice.

“We refuse the title,” Max repeated. “For the whole tournament, I mean. The third task basically ended in a tie. And we feel like we’re pretty much on the same level.”

“This was meant to be a way for the schools to bond, right?” Léa added. “So why bother with making sure who gets what title? Let this be a three way tie. None of us are going to want to be the winner of Triwizard Tournament.”

The silence, this time, was suffocating. It was almost like one could hear a pin drop from meters away.

And then, the noise exploded like a bomb. The three Champions jumped at it, looking around. Boss Leader looked like she was enjoying a fine show, Max could _feel_ her grin even from afar. Headmistress Iliev seemed to be disappointed, but she sighed and shrugged, like it wasn’t that much of a deal for her to begin with. Headmaster Tremblay, on the contrary, looked incredulous. His face went through several different shades of several different colors in matter of seconds before settling on a dangerous-looking raging _white_ , of all things. He looked like he was watching a dementor dressing as a clown and juggling oranges on a unicycle with a song from Insolent Children blaring from the background in front of him.

“B-but the commemoration cup…!”

“Didn’t it break in the tunnels…?”

“The prize money…!”

“We’ll split it between the three of us.”

The commentator opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. The faculty soon dragged the three into a private room to discuss about it.

“We can still give the title to one of you, you know?” Garners told them, frowning.

“We’ll still reject it,” Paskal told him immediately.

“There’s no convincing you, is there?”

“No.”

Somehow, that was the end of it. Garners took it surprisingly easily, though convincing Tremblay wasn’t even half as easy. It didn’t help that the other two headmasters were whispering to themselves like gossipy girls gossiping on the annoying boy in the neighborhood. The giggles _definitely_ didn’t help matters. Soon enough, though, it was resolved, and they had to deal with the headache that was the other students. The Journalism Club, in particular, with Suzy firing off questions in rapid fire. Eventually, they drew themselves into their rooms to find peace.

Max didn’t exactly find peace, with his friends and family clinging onto him with questions of _why the heck did you do that_ and _is your arm okay_ and _I can’t believe you’re still alive, I can’t believe you survived that, how_. Somehow they all managed to squeeze into his room in Slytherin and handle Dad and Zoey’s extreme awe and curiosity in stride.

The next morning hadn’t been so kind to him, with him being mobbed by questions in breakfast. He knew Léa and Paskal didn’t fare any better. Somehow, they all had the same ideas to find some alone time in the secluded corner of the Great Lake.

Max took a deep breath and sighed when the laughter finally subsided. “Do you think it was reckless to decide what we decided?” he asked to no one in particular. “I mean, it looks like it’s landed us in a pretty crappy situation in the end.”

“I really would have paid to look at Monsieur Tremblay’s face again, though?” Léa shrugged, face splitting into a huge grin. “I wonder if one of the Journalism Club members took a photo. I’ll gladly give them an interview in exchange of it.”

“That… could be a bad idea,” Max cringed.

“It would totally be worth it… the attention it brought probably wouldn’t though.” She sighed, straightening up before flopping on the tree branch. “Aaah, really, though… I enjoyed the time being a Champion, but people following me around like I’m one of the Weird Sisters is one thing I’d rather not have.”

“Yeah, it gets tiring after a while,” Paskal agreed. “It made me almost regret putting my name in.”

Max perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, even if I didn’t put it in, I’m sure there are plenty students from my school that are just as capable. Maybe even more.”

“Ah, it’s the same with me,” Léa sprang up and sat. “I can probably name at least five Beauxbatons students that could perform better in the tasks.”

“Yeah, Cody or Violet would have been a better Champion, I think,” Max mused, taking off his cap and playing with it. “Or Isabel. She’s tutored me in Charms and Defense Against Dark Arts. Or Johnny… with some heaping of questionable morality, but he’d do a good job.”

“What’s the thing that got us chosen, I wonder?” Léa tilted her head in curiosity. “Can’t be our skill set, right?”

“Worthiness?” Paskal suggested.

Max snorted. “You know, my friend once said that the goblet probably chose the Champions like the Muggle lottery. We’re chance picks. I don’t know about you two, but I sure don’t feel _worthy_ enough to be a Champion.”

Paskal and Léa exchanged looks and snorted in unison.

“ _Il est un cr_ _é_ _tin_ ,” Léa commented, more to herself than to Paskal. _He’s an idiot_.

“ _Oui, oui, un gros cr_ _é_ _tin_ ,” Paskal responded. _Yes, yes, a big idiot_.

Léa looked at him in surprise. “You know French?”

“A bit. I learned a little, in case I need to speak with Beauxbatons students. Turns out we all use English more than we use our native tongue.”

“Uh, a little explanation please?” Max asked, totally lost. “Cretan? Whee whee?”

Léa grimaced. “Okay, please stop butchering my mother language.”

“Max, we may have been chance pick, but we can tell that you were really, totally worthy of being a Champion,” Paskal chose to be merciful to Max and explain. “Probably more than us two, really.”

“What, seriously?”

Léa snorted loudly. “There’s no way that someone who didn’t even think before jumping to save others in a setting that could easily kill them not worthy, Max.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! That's the end.
> 
> I'm really really glad that everyone enjoyed this story. Big thanks to the two beautiful human beings that created this AU to begin with for letting me write this. Big thanks to everyone who have read, commented, and kudos-ed. I'm so glad you all stick with this even with how irregular my updates are. This wouldn't be completed without your support, I tell you. The comments and kudos are like the fuel for my machines.
> 
> Again, big, BIG thanks to everyone. Thanks for reading, and hope you have a great day!


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